Ring Child
by Xx Kiamii xX
Summary: Harry never expected to wake up from the final battle to wind up in the Shire as a 3-year-old ISTARI! But then again... The unexpected always happened to him. Features the entire LOTR story with twists. Follow a magical journey of second chances...
1. Magical Wars

**Ring Child**

**By Kiamii**

**Notes: SPOILERS of EVERYTHING  
**

This story starts after Bilbo's departure in The Fellowship and will continue past the Return of the King.  
Harry is seventeen, right after the defeat of Voldemort but before the Epilogue.

I do NOT own Harry Potter... OR Lord of the Rings.

**Chapter One "Magical Wars"**

Harry stood there, unable to comprehend what was taking place in front of him. Here lay before his disbelieving eyes, a place far from home indeed. When he had said _'I've had enough trouble to last me a lifetime'_ to his friends and Dumbledore, he had meant it! Nothing could have prepared him to face this sort of thing. The last thing he had done was munch on the sandwich he had asked from Kreacher and had fallen asleep in the Gryffindor Dorms… Well he certainly wasn't there anymore… Where was he?

To find that he was in a place that he had never seen the likes of before. He was in a room of sorts, which was perfectly... petite. The door in front of him was large and round, everywhere in the room filled with delicate antiques that he had never before seen in his life of seventeen years. Harry fell himself go into shock as he actually noticed that there was someone else IN HERE! He was taller than the ceiling and reeked of magic himself. Harry found himself looking up at him.

"My my, so you've arrived at last." The man said to him, causing Harry to squeak and back away. The man in front of him reminded him very much of Albus Dumbledore, only in neutral gray robes and a wizarding hat, a staff in his hand and he was smoking. Harry froze. Was it just him or was this man expecting him...? Ignoring that, the man seemed enormous compared to him! The place was indeed unfairly normal but, made the man looked extremely towering compared to Harry. Something was wrong with this… Harry looked down at his hands and his eyes widened and he felt like he was going to faint. No way… This couldn't be happening! His hands were extremely tiny.

"May I be informed of a name that beholds you, young one?" The old man asked him kindly. Harry's emerald green eyes looked at the man who looked possibly beyond years older than Albus. He was smiling pleasantly at Harry, as if he knew something.

"I'm Harry, who are you?" Harry asked very quietly. The old man looked at him with such a puzzled look that Harry felt his cheeks heat up.

"Harry? Such an odd name that is. No matter; we shall have to change that in a moment, but it will work for now in this introductory. I am Gandalf the Grey. I take it that you yourself are a one of a kind Istari child." Istari? What was that? "An Istari Child you are indeed, one of which never existed before... until now of course." Gandalf said in what could be said as amusement as he knelt down to be gone of the dangling chandelier from the ceiling. Harry's eyes looked lost and he certainly felt lost. Who the hell was this guy? What was an Istari?

"Forgive me child, I am wandering away from this marvelous explanation. You are a wizard from your world, I have heard from the Valar. Here, you, as a wizard, are known as an Istari and are very much different than my kind though they are classified as one and the same. We use staffs and I believe you bear wands. You require words of another language to work with magic, I should assume." Gandalf explained.

"Why am I a one of a kind Istari?" Harry couldn't help but ask, noting that his voice was much higher and smaller than he could remember. He had to be dreaming. Why not go along with this then? He was Harry-Bloody-Potter the Boy-Who-Just-Won't-Bloody-Die-And-Always-Does-The-Impossible anyways.

"You are a child, I daresay around as many as three summers. You are of mankind, yet an Istari. My kind only becomes Istari as a man, when we reach a very old age. You were born an Istari, having never happened before." Gandalf told him, kneeling down. Harry's eyes went round in wonder. Great, even in his dreams he was doing the impossible. And wait… Did he say THREE?

"But, I'm seventeen!" Harry protested and nearly jumped when Gandalf picked Harry up and placed him on his lap as he sat down in a chair. Oddly enough, being there felt comfortable and Harry couldn't stop himself from relaxing.

"Quite mentally, that is your age, but here you are a small child without a family. Harry, you are an odd and unique child called to Middle Earth. You are not in your world anymore. You are in a place called the Shire of Middle Earth, owned by Hobbits."

"H-Hobbits?" Harry stammered first. So he was in another place. An alternate universe?

"Half-lings if you will. They bear shoe-less feet and are quite short though I daresay that you are shorter by far compared to an adult," Gandalf said with a smile, "In fact, we are currently residing in the home of a friend of mine, Frodo Baggins. He shall be leaving on a journey on the eve of his birthday in a few days, and I am simply present here for today, about to marvel on a journey to find my own explanations." Harry looked at him before he heard the door rattling.

"Gandalf! I don't think I-" Frodo cut himself off as he spotted a very small child in the arms of his mentor. The boy wasn't a hobbit judging by his small size and structure of a man.

"Ah Frodo my dear boy! I would like you to meet a very unique child that I have stumbled across, Archir the Emerald, a wizard child." Gandalf said in joy. Harry, now dubbed Archir, looked at the elderly man with a quirked eyebrow. Archir? What kind of name was THAT!?

"An Istari child? How is that possible and one of emerald status?" Frodo asked in surprise. Harry looked down to indeed find his outfit an emerald green robe. He quirked an eyebrow again as Gandalf simply adjusted him on his lap. He suddenly found distraction in the form of Gandalf's beard and his small hands grasped it, playing with it. Gandalf let a smile grace his lips. Harry stopped, turning red as he realized what he was doing. He. Was. Not. A. Child!

"Quite right my friend. Istari are not born as they are, they are created from the Valar as a man. Therefore I was humbly taken by such a delightful surprise to find this little lad was born with magic. I feel that he should accompany on your journey for he will do you much advantage despite his young age of three." Gandalf stated, causing Harry to pause in his meager thoughts. Gandalf simply smiled knowingly at Harry who couldn't help but allow Gandalf to do what he wished. Maybe it had something to do with him being in the body of a child and thus drawn to Gandalf like a grandfather and grandson relationship. He trusted Gandalf like he had with Albus. Gandalf stood and placed the boy on the floor. Harry couldn't help but look at Frodo shyly. The hobbit stared in amazement and actually looked down to be at Archir's height. Archir discovered that he was about a foot shorter than Frodo who was, at best, three and a half feet. How annoying. You had to be short if a HOBBIT was taller than you. This was not something that Harry looked forward to.

"Good afternoon my fair little Archir the Emerald. I am Frodo Baggins of the Shire, adopted heir of Bilbo." Frodo said politely.

"Hello," Archir mumbled, looking at his little feet, which he noted were in strange looking shoes of brown shades. Frodo's own feet were shoeless and hairy, making Archir smile. He felt this to be rather amusing for some unknown reason.

"Archir, you will accompany Frodo on his journey, will you not?" Gandalf asked the small boy. Archir looked up and bit his lip before nodding, seeing as he could do nothing else.

"Excellent! Now Frodo, I shall see you and the others when I can. Good day, my dear hobbit and my dear young Archir. You'll find his belongings atop the counter of the kitchen. Frodo, a word if you will…" Gandalf said before patting Archir on the head and taking his leave outside with Frodo. They took a moment or two before Frodo reentered the room, a frown marring his face. Gandalf was gone as quick as a bee. Mighty fast for an old man, Archir mused. Archir turned his head to see Frodo frowning lightly at the wizard's leave before turning to Archir.

"So, I daresay you must be hungry." Frodo stated kindly to the small boy. Archir opened his mouth to deny when his stomach let about a growl of starvation. He hadn't eaten in awhile and only then it had been Kreacher's sandwich. Frodo chuckled and took hold of his hand, taking him to the kitchen where he began to fix the two of them lunch. As Archir sat on a large comfy chair at the table, Frodo expertly cooked up a batch of roast and mashed potatoes with green beans. Filling up a cup with juice, he placed it in front of Archir who looked at the plate with wide eyes, unsure if he would be able to eat all that. His eyes must have shown what he was thinking, because Frodo was quick to assure him.

"Just try to eat as much as you can," Frodo told him, beginning his own meal.

"So you are only three?" Frodo asked with a curious grin. Remembering all that Gandalf had said, Archir nodded and took a nibble on the roast, finding it delicious. The two ate in silence until Archir could no longer eat anything more. Frodo frowned lightly when Archir was only able to stomach a quarter of the meal, but let it go for the moment. Frodo stood up and lead him out of the kitchen.

"We leave tomorrow for a long journey. I suggest you slumber away while I see about getting a few clothes procured for you Archir." Frodo told Archir, leading him to the bedroom that once belonged to Frodo growing up who took Bilbo's grand room. Frodo found a shirt from his tween-hood and helped Archir undress (simply unbuttoning the top of the robe for the child) before slipping the large shirt over the boy's tiny body. The shirt went to Archir's ankles, to his amusement and Archir's embarrassment. Frodo frowned upon seeing the numerous bruising and cuts on the boy's small chest and after tucking Archir in, he went to his study to think. The bag of the Istari child was next to him and in it was a small stick that Frodo assumed was the staff for the child. Also there were a set of small emerald green clothing, a book of some sort, a photo of a magical looking couple, and a stuffed odd looking bird. Frodo smiled at the site of the stuffed plushy before retiring to bed that night... Gandalf's departing words stuck in his head… The boy would help the journey rather than hinder… Frodo was a bit curious to know what the Istari Child would bring…

Meanwhile, Archir lay down upon the soft bed and closed his emerald green eyes, puzzling over the mystery that was now his situation. Here he was, a child of three, a rare type of person in the middle of an entirely different universe. The shirt was wooly and loose on him. Harry bit his cheek and sighed, burying his head into the pillow and opting to sleep. That was Harry's last conscious thought before he felt himself drift into slumber.

His eyes snapped open as he found himself in a place of almost emptied black. He looked around, blinking, before a light appeared before him and Gandalf the Gray appeared.

"Ah, young Archir." Gandalf's image came into view and Harry found himself sitting in a chair from nowhere. He looked at the Dumbledore-look-alike in confusion. What in the world? Geez… Nothing was the same anymore! Arg!

"You are wondering why you were brought to Middle Earth, no?" Gandalf asked with a chuckle. Harry nodded, not speaking. He was afraid this man would turn him into a rabbit or something if he did speak. Gandalf was not to be underestimated…

"I can only repeat this once, seeing as I am using borrowed time to enter your dreams… A war will take place soon. Very soon… One of which you will have the choice to help in or to stay hidden and out of their reach. You will lose people no matter the way. This is part of life child, I am dearly sorry. You were sent here to have a childhood of your own, but you will still face a war. It is part of life." Gandalf said softly. Harry looked down at his feet.

"Why am I here if I do not have to fight then?"

"Your war has ended, and the Valar thought to give a second life to you Harry Potter. Starting henceforth, some horrific memories may strike upon your mind in the midst of slumber, if only to fade afterwards when you are able to accept them. This is your only way to recovery." Gandalf told him. Harry was distraught, enough that he sought comfort even from this man who was telling him this.

"Will I ever see my friends again?" Harry whispered. Gandalf drew Harry up in an embrace..

"One day… Maybe. You will be able to communicate with them one day but, that is many summers from now my dear lad. Many summers lie ahead… I can promise you this; you will have a home to one day call your own here."

Harry looked up at the elderly wizard with eyes that were dark of icey green, but there was something about the warmth now… Harry nodded his head. Gandalf graced upon him with a smile and began to fade away, leaving Harry to the dreams of Hermione and Ron and the heavenly memories he held of his life as Harry Potter.

**Author's Note: I wanted to try Lord of the Rings this time. I wonder if it sounded alright. No one else has done an Istari CHILD before like this. Similar to Elfling stories only Harry is one of a kind like in his old world, and I made him at a toddler age because he will grow in years to come, and I realize that three-year-olds seem to accept and believe things much easier than others. They are still in purity. Hope you liked this!**

**Added: (March 16, 2010) I decided to give a definite height to Archir and I twisted it around to make a reason for WHY Frodo so willingly took a child with him. The story is completed, but the chapters are being tweaked around for convenience. If you are a first time reader, I say to you… Good luck. Lol.**


	2. Istari Child

**Ring Child**

**By Kiamii**

**Chapter Two "Istari-Child"**

Upon their arrival to the Bree, Frodo felt immensely relieved to have finally stumbled across the Prancing Pony. Young Archir the Emerald rubbed his eyes sleepily, his hand in Sam's who clutched the small hand tightly. What a journey the four hobbits and one wizard toddler had made. From their departure of the Shire to Maggot to even Tom Bombadill who had taken an immense liking in the little Istari. The Wraiths were as foul and as dark as they were described. Archil knew word had spread around Middle Earth now, about the small Istari child who was traveling with four hobbits. Gildor had told him that children of any kind with the exception of humans were rare, and for a small human child to have been actually born with the powers of an Istari and the ability to speak any sole language (as Archir found out the long way) as he so wished to. Gildor told Archir that he would be a treasure among any creature.

Joy...

"You tired Arch?" Frodo asked, looking down at their charge. Archir yawned and rubbed his eyes again, showing that he was indeed tired. He hardly spoke about but, he communicated greatly with the four. Frodo grinned and lifted Archir up into his arms, always taking great delight in the fact that he could actually carry Archir but, frowning at how terribly light and small the wizard boy was.

They entered the Prancing Pony and found themselves looking about in awe. There were very different kind of folk in Bree indeed. The men of Bree were very independant and friendly, their brown-haired broad faces spotted. Many types of creatures could be spotted from Hobbits to Dwarves to even Elves! They turned to see themselves facing a man by the name of Barliman Butterbur. He was a jolly looking, yet forgetful fellow who peered at the Hobbits with glee, "Hobbits! Four Hobbits! Even more so, hobbits from the shire judging by your talk."

He smiled friendly before he noticed the child fast asleep in Frodo's arms. A hood was over the toddler's head and Barliman looked curious as any would.

"A young hobbit child?" He inquired. Frodo decided that it was safe to say, shaking his head.

"A friend of ours, Gandalf the Gray, left him in our care. He is no hobbit. I am Mr. Underhill and these are my companions Mr. Took, Mr. Brandybuck, Samwise Gamgee, and the youngling that I carry is Archir." Frodo explained.

"Gandalf! Dear me there must be one reason or another as to why then. Archir eh? Sounds like a right suiting name for some reason. Well now... Oh dear me, I've been sidetracked. Nob! Nob! Where is Bob!" Barliman called out joyfully. He showed the group the room and Frodo rested the child upon the largest of the beds, changing his clothing for the soft pajamas that was left with Archir upon the leaving of Gandalf. Frodo put a hand on the tiny boy's chest before he and the others decided to take a trip down into the open area where men and others were singing and just about drunk. From the encouragement of Butterbur, they found themselves in the company of the Bree. Merry had stayed to keep an eye on young Archir who remained blissfully asleep, erecting a smile from the hobbits.

The place that they found themselves upon was a rather large common-room, the gathering both mixed and large. Partially was the room drought in smoke and the other in clear air. Baliman was already chatting with a costumer or two as the three hobbits entered. Before they could blink, they were being welcomed grandly by the chorus of many. They were introduced to a number of names that Frodo, Sam, and Pippin were unsure of whose belonged to who in some cases.

Frodo and the others listened to the chitter and chatter as they sipped their mugs and shared a grin, occasionally looking back at the exit where Merry and Archir were residing. Frodo turned his head before noticing that he was being spied upon by a man of strange appeals, having a tall tankard in front and smoking a long-stemmed pipe that was most oddly carved. He was hung about in his own relaxed manner and bore a dark green cloak. A hood covered the face, yet the eyes of him were seen to be staring directly towards Frodo.

The hobbits asked of whom he was and they soon found out two or so things. His name was Strider in these lands and he was a Ranger. He was unknown by many and he was a traveller who did what he wished.

The man came towards him, sitting down next to Frodo who noticed he was already alone, Sam having gone to check up on Archir and Merry for a wee bit while Pippin succumbed to the many drinks.

"Ah, Master Underhill if I am assuming right from old Butterbur's words."

"It is," Frodo said quietly, darting his eyes.

"Well, young sir, I would chance to stop the young hobbit friend of yours before he revealed many things needlessly and dangerously might I add. Don't you agree?" Strider said with an ironic thinned look. Frodo's eyebrows quirked and he spotted Pippin not far from them. Listening closely, Pippin was giving an alarming number of tales away to those about him, smashed as a hobbit could get with beer.

That night didn't particularly end well for Frodo who had distracted them with a song which had worked to distract but, had ended with the ring falling upon his finger and for the Bree folk to now see them as distrustful. Frodo felt such a fool. He crawled under a table or two to the dark corner near him before he dared take his ring off and pocketing it.

To make such a matter worse, Strider cornered him and revealed that he knew his real name and what the ring was. He warned that he wished to have a talk with him before leaving. After dealing with Butterbur, Frodo trudged up to the parlour with Sam and Pippin. Merry was not able to be located for the present but, young Archir now sat up in his bed, yawning and rubbing his eyes to rid of his sleep. Frodo also noted with dread that Strider was in the room, near the bed and staring at the child in a thoughtful expression mingled with shock and amazement.

"Frodo? Sam? Pip?" Archir yawned cutely as he called their name, hearing the shouts at seeing the man so close to the little boy.

"Hello Archir, I see you slept well," Frodo said weakly and urging the little boy to come to him. Archir moved his feet to slide off the bed when Strider reached out and plucked Archir from the bed, pulling him onto his lap and studying the Istari child.

"Incredible, I am sure Gandalf has done something to cause this yet again." Strider murmured so low that only Archir heard. Frodo was silent as he saw how Archir did not struggle, therefore he gave only some trust to the man. Sam was shuffling next to him, clearly not trusting Strider a piece.

"Who are you sir?" Archir asked, taking Pippin's question.

"Me? I am called Strider here. Young Frodo Baggins here promised to have a small chat with me. May I inquire your name?" Strider said, almost gently.

"Archir, Archir the Emerald." The toddler yawned and he leaned against Strider, feeling complete trust in the man for a reason he could not comprehend. Strider's eyebrows both quirked at the mention of the color title that represented an Istari.

"You said I might hear something to my advantage, which is what I would want to know now." Frodo said firmly.

"Several things but, of course I require my price." Strider said slyly.

"Price!?" Frodo and Sam chorused. Strider nodded and wrapped his arms around the young boy in his arms, looking at the child with a smile. This alarmed the hobbits.

"Do not think I want to steal the child. I merely wish that you take me along with you, until I wish to leave you on your journey. For we go the same way and this boy so young that he is may need more of a guide and protection." Strider said with a quirked eyebrow. Frodo found himself agreeing on the condition that his information was good deal to his price.

Archir had fallen asleep once again and Strider kept him safely tucked in his arms as he explained and the message he was delivering. He described the fear that Wraiths brought forth and how he had no wish for someone like little Archir to experience, should his expression be one to go by.

A knock at their door stirred Archir and Strider adjusted the lad to relaxed against his neck as Butterbur entered with a letter to Frodo. What emitted was an array of argument and revelation before they read the letter.

_THE PRANCING PONY, BREE. Midyear's Day, Shire Year, 1418. _

_Dear Frodo, _

_Bad news has reached me from my place here. I have had to leave at once. You must leave Bad End as fast as possible and get out of the Shire before July at the latest of times. I will return and trail your hobbit tracks, if I see you away. Leave me a message should you pass Bree, with the landlord Butterbur. Upon travel, you might meet a man who calls himself Strider. He knows of the business that we have and can help you. Travel to Rivendell and keep Archir the Emerald safe. Till I reacquaint with you again my boy._

_Yours in haste_

_GANDALF_

_PS. Do NOT use It again, for for any reason at all! You'll do well not to travel in the midst of darkness._

_PPS. Make sure the man is really Strider. There are many strange folk. His truest name is Aragorn._

_PPPS. I hope Butterbur sends this prompt. A worth man he is, but he is terribly forgetful. If he does not send this on time, I shall roast him._

_Fare Well! _

Frodo blinked at the message before looking towards Strider, "It would have made a loads things easier if you had told me you were a friend of Gandalf."

"Would you have believed me? I did not know that Gandalf's name was as simple as that to gain your belief. I knew none of the letter and I thought I had to persuade you to trust without proof. I did not intend to tell you of myself just yet, I wanted to study you first, and make sure of you." Strider said in an almost dismayed manner.

"I trust you," Archir said softly, interrupting the silence that hung. Strider blinked and looked down, having heard the soft and childish voice in his lap.

"I am glad you do so young one." Strider said with a smile at his lips.

Frodo coughed and they continued their talk, finally deciding to trust the man. When Merry brought news of the Black Riders, Strider ordered the hobbits to retrieve their belongings and to settle in the parlour, not flocking to their rooms. Archir cuddled up to the man and looked around curiously. Once the hobbits lay down their blankets with their feet towards the hearth, Strider leaned into his chair with Archir relaxed on his lap, leaning against his chest. One by one they fell into slumber.

It was later in early night that Frodo awoke. He found himself clutching little Archir to his chest, Strider having placed the sleeping boy in his arms. Archir stirred as well.

"I can sense something Frodo," Archir whispered, sitting up. He crawled his way to the window and was picked up by Strider as he did so.

"Come, I feel that they are gone now." Strider told the hobbits who had awoken among the talk and movement. He let Archir on his feet and Sam took the little boy's hand as they went into the bedrooms. They were glad they had not slept in their beds that night, for the room was a massacre of feathers and mat. Archir ran over to the beds and looked around, terribly reminded of his second year as Harry Potter when Ginny Weasley had trashed his room to find the diary... how very similar this situation was. Instead of a girl were evil men. Instead of a diary was a ring of great strength. Archir turned around to see his current guardians looking around just as feared. He went back over to them and tugged at Frodo's hand.

"Frodo?" Archir asked hesitantly. He couldn't identify what he was feeling. He felt terrified but, at the same time understanding of the situation at hand. It was times like these he wished he wasn't of three years old in body and somewhat in mind. Frodo looked down and put a hand on Archir's shoulder, drawing him to his side.

"Everything is alright Archir. Just a fright is all." Sam said softly. Strider watched them curiously before suggesting they take leave. It took a few days to reassemble their runaway ponies and work for Butterbur for cost but, they were soon well on their path to Rivendell. Strider had placed Archir on his horse in front of him as he rode, so that he could keep an eye on the child. He found a strange protectiveness of the little boy and would watch Archir play with some sort of stuffed toy, or falling asleep cuddled into his chest.

What caught Strider was the dark black hair that was now to the toddler's shoulders and tied back with a tie. He had stunning emerald eyes and was of the age of three, wearing an emerald green cloak that only a wizard would wear. He was the only child to ever have been born with purely magic and still be human, and he understood Elvish. Strider had whispered to Archir in elvish one lone night when he had volunteered to watch the child, and had been shocked when he had received a reply from the tiny toddler. He had already been surprised when Archir could speak quite well for someone his age as well. Must have been expected from a child of Valar. For that were what Istari were.

They continued farther down until they reached Weathertop, also known as the Old Road. From there they simply travelled along the lands, passing a stream and hills as they did so. When the hobbits slept, Strider would take a time of his own to tuck Archir in to his blanket and to whisper to the boy about the tales of the land. Archir would smile that heavenly innocent smile of his and Strider found himself craving that time with the boy. There was just something about Archir that drew about his attention.

Upon stumbling upon a land they knew not, they stood in confusion before Sam found himself quoting something that Bilbo Baggins had once sang. Strider informed them that the tale had been The Fall of Gil-galad in an ancient tongue of which Bilbo had translated. They soon decided to travel up and came to the top where they found a wide ring of ancient stonework, now crumbling with age-long dried grass. In the centre of the circle was a cairn of broken piled stoned, each blackened in charcoal.

"Very dreary and depressing this place is. No water nor shelter nor even Gandalf!" Merry sighed, clutching the hand of a very quiet Archir whom studied the rocks in interest.

"Maybe people did rituals here," Archir murmured, wanting to walk forward to look more but, Merry would not allow so. Instead he pouted at the hobbit who reluctantly gave in but, handed his small hand to Strider who took him into his arms and knelt down into the circle to show little Archir. The wizard held his hand out.

"There's a stroke, a dot, and three strokes. What's it mean Strider?" Archir asked curiously.

"The left stroke might have been a G-ruine with thin branches, though one cannot know for sure. Rangers use runes and come here sometimes to mark things. They look like they stand for G3 and perhaps a sign by Gandalf on October third, to warn us." Strider explained, placing Archir on the ground. Archir looked over his shoulder.

"What's that?" Archir asked with wide emerald eyes. He felt suddenly cold with dread. Strider swept Archir up and hid him away behind the ruined circle, pulling the four hobbits with him. Upon their hiding, the Black Riders were headed near them.

"Can the Riders see anything? I mean, all they show are noses that smell us." Merry murmured.

"They can not see us per say, they can see the shadows of our minds though and smell blood of living things. Their strong points being their senses. The rings draws them to us." Strider whispered.

"Then how can I hide without them spying upon me!" Frodo asked in fear, clutching Archir to his chest tightly. The boy looked at them in confusion. The group of six stayed hidden as riders drew by, unseeing and unfeeling of their bodies pressed against the rock.

When darkness flew close, they journeyed farther, Strider singing ann-thennath to the hobbits and Archir, the child listening in interest. As he told them of the elves, Archir could see that the man's face was lit with happiness and contentment as he spoke. As they sat upon a fire, they felt the presence of darkness come near and Strider kept Archir burrowed in his arms as he drew out his sword and the others looked upon a spot to find three or more black figures. The Wraiths.

Pippin and Merry were full of fear as they ducked upon the ground. Sam, his loyal self, stayed by Frodo who was quaking in his spot. Archir blinked and noticed how Frodo seemed to resist. To resist putting on the ring that would take them near? Archir struggled to get out of Strider's hold but, the man did not relent and Archir watched helplessly afraid as the ring slipped upon the left hand of Frodo.

It was almost quiet before the Riders now met them there and Archir was gripped to Strider's chest as he fought against them. He looked wildly around for Frodo and he felt his insides grow cold as he heard a cry and Frodo appeared again, lying heavily down with a pool of his own dark crimson blood, a blade having struck his shoulder. Archir cried out and managed to run towards his friend and somewhat guardian as Strider dealt with the fate of the four riders.

"Frodo! Don't leave me!" Archir yelled, his eyes wide with horrified realization and he shook the Hobbit's shoulders as the others gathered about. Strider ordered the others to take Frodo towards by the fire before he quickly left with a frown, saying that he would return. Archir felt his eyes sting and couldn't stop himself from bawling as he saw Frodo's pale face.

"Shhh... calm down Archi, Frodo will be well and aware when you awake. Go to sleep, you need rest after such a terrible fright for a child your age." Merry whispered to the boy, drawing him to his chest and rubbing circles into the green cloak. Archir hiccupped and began to feel drowsy before he did indeed fall asleep, lying in Merry's arms partially as the night wore on.

**Author's Note: To begin a simple explanation; Harry is now a three year old child with the emotions and similar thinking of one. He can still partially think like himself, only he grows as a toddler with a wise knowledge of certain things, able to spot things. A gift from Valar. I hope you liked this Chapter, it has a lot of exerts from Book One Chapters 4 to Book One Chapter 12 of The Fellowship of the Ring. I'm having a lot of fun with this story and Archir will be revealed more in depth with his personality as time goes on of course. Some of the weird "time" language in the story is of my writing. I was known in English Class for writing like that oddly enough. Feel free to ask any questions. **


	3. Rivendell

**Ring Child**

**by Kiamii**

**Chapter Three "Rivendell"**

Frodo opened his eyes to find himself upon a bed, soft and silk made he realized sleepily before his eyes shot open as he remembered last of his memories. The six of them had been on their way to Rivendell when Frodo had been stabbed and had awoken some hours later. They had traveled for many days.

"Where am I?" Frodo asked aloud, looking as his hands.

"In the House of Elrond and the time is ten o'clock in the morning of October the 24th, if you wish to know." A voice said to his right. Frodo turned his head to spy an old man grinning at him.

"Gandalf! You are here!" Frodo said with a glow.

"Yes I am indeed," Gandalf chuckled, smoking his pipe, "and young Archir was given quite a fright until you were finally away from peril. Bless the poor lad, he weeped needlessly, wanting confirmation that you were well. He would be here at this moment to see your eyes unclosed but, he had been drawn away by Aragorn who has taken quite a protective streak over the boy. You are very lucky to be alive Frodo. You were beginning to fade away and were being overcome by the poison, as the blade's intent. You have a strong will my dear hobbit!"

"Then it is well that I have recovered. Tell me Gandalf, where are the others and how is Archir holding up?" Frodo asked in wonder.

"Resting I presume, though Archir is with Aragorn who chooses to show him around. It distracts the lad as I hope. Now, you will know what you wish when the Council is held. If you must wish to find where I have been, I can only say that I was held captive."

"You!?" Frodo stuttered in disbelief.

"Yes, I, Gandalf the Grey," Gandalf said dramatically," for I am not a great god of a sort, I am able to be overpowered just as others have before me. News of the event of your own has been told to me. It seems that Nine Riders had been present to overpower our dear Glorfindel and Aragorn, though they are well now. " After the long talk, Frodo fell asleep murmuring about his miss for Bilbo.

Frodo was now in the Last Homely House east of the Sea, the house of Elrond. He awoke soon after, fully refreshed and dressed in clean garments of green. Looking in the mirror, Frodo was dismayed to find that he had lost more weight than he thought possible. A knock on the door alerted him as Sam entered the room and Sam's eyes lit up in delight before he squeaked happily.

"Mr. Frodo! You are up and at it once again, I am overjoyed!" Sam said with a grin. Frodo smiled back at the hobbit as Sam raved about the wonderful Elves everywhere.

"Tell me dear Sam, where is Archir?" Frodo asked curiously.

"He is sleeping away the exhaustion of a party held in his arrival. The elves seemed to be overwhelmed and horrified to know that no party had ever been made for Archir's birth." Sam chuckled.

"Must be because he is an Istari child," Frodo laughed and Sam agreed and led Frodo out to the steep bank of the river where the others had taken seats. They cheered upon seeing Frodo and the hobbits went inside to the feast. The food hall was occupied by Elves and many others. At the end of the long table was Elrdon and to his left sat Glorfindel, Gandalf to his right. One of the things that Frodo found amazing was that little Archir was sitting upon Elrond's lap, resting against the chest of the Elf, fast asleep.

In the middle of the table was a chair with a canopy and occupying the seat was the daughter of Elrond, Arwen, who had chosen to seat across from Aragorn who had decided to join the meal. They dinner was lively and the feast soon found itself at an end after Frodo had finished his own interesting conversation with Gluin, one of the twelve companions of Thorin who took along Bilbo.

"You were very fond of Bilbo were you not?" Gluin asked with a sly smile. Frodo sighed with happiness.

"I am indeed. I would rather be with him at this moment to talk than have all the riches of this world! I miss him dearly."

"Well then, perhaps you should go along with Gandalf at this time," Gluin said before exiting. Frodo cocked an eyebrow and indeed went along with Gandalf to the Hall of Fire. The hall was filling and Frodo studied the faces until he at last stumbled upon a dark figure who looked to be drunk or asleep. He looked confused as Elrond beckoned the stranger to awake. The figure raised his head and Frodo sprang forward, wrapping his arms around him with a cry of happiness.

"Bilbo!"

"Frodo, my dear boy. My you have grown in height but, shrunk in weight." Bilbo said kindly to the hobbit. The two hobbits settled down and swapped stories. Bilbo smoked his pipe and watched Elrond who was still carrying the very much asleep toddler in his arms.

"Gandalf has told me about the wizard child. Impossibly unique and one-of-a-kind. A child with magic and gifted by the Valar. Very interesting I must say." Bilbo whistled.

"He is a very quiet boy and perceptionally bright. You would love him Bilbo." Frodo said with a fond smile as he gazed upon the child who was being studied by the many inhabitants, all giving greeting to Elrond who ran a hand through the black hair of Archir's. Frodo leaned against Bilbo who wrapped an arm around his adopted heir, grinning.

"He'll grow to be a very powerful man," Bilbo said to Frodo. The two shared a smile before continuing on to talk of other things they wished to discuss. Soon the night wore on and Bilbo walked Frodo to his room, where Sam also came to make sure Frodo was asleep as it had been the first in awhile that he had awaken. Elrond had yet to give up the sleeping bundle, finding Archir both a treasure and delight of his own. There were only few times that Archir stirred but, as quickly as made, he was back asleep.

"You are quite attached to the youngling, father," Arwen noted in amusement. Elrond smiled at his daughter and to Aragorn who sat beside her.

"He is a child of love. He seems to bring it out of us, yet I feel that he had been abused before Gandalf had brought him to the Shire," Elrond said, frowning lightly as he finally chose to rest the Istari child on the large cot in the room he had made for Archir. Aragorn took over and tucked the blanket of silk around Archir who smiled in his sleep and one of his tiny hands gripped the blanket while his other seemed to find his thumb addicting to suck on. Aragorn laughed at the site of such a childish action and turned his attention to Elrond and Arwen who had been watching him. Elrond excused himself after he rested a light kiss on the boy's forehead of where a lightning bolt scar was.

"A grand father you'll be Aragorn," Arwen told him, looping her arms around his neck as he did so to her waist. Aragorn gave her a smile and the two didn't realize that they were kissing until they parted lips.

"You do realize that we are doing this in a child's room?" Aragorn whispered, smiling. Arwen laughed softly and the two left the room after both placing a kiss of their own on the boy's cheeks. Archir rolled over in his sleep, peacefully dreaming away. He dreamt of nothing and everything.

Light beamed down on everyone the Next day, Frodo was outside yet again, watching Archir wrestle with Pippin who managed to pin him to the ground and tickle the little boy.

"N-No! I Give Pip!" Archir laughed as he giggled under the pressure of his sides. He looked up at the hobbit as Pippin released him.

"That tickled!" Archir giggled, sitting up and allowing Sam to pull him up and tug him over towards Frodo. Archir fell into Frodo's lap and cuddled up to the hobbit's chest.

"I thought you were gone Frodo," Archir admitted, taking in the scent of the hobbit.

"I thought so too Archir, I thought so too," Frodo murmured before he asked distractedly how the elves reacted to Archir.

"They don't leave me alone much ever since they saw me!" Archir laughed, "Honestly, this is the first I've been without an elf near me and even then I know they hide somewhere of the trees and lands!"

"Very protective of them." Frodo agreed. Archir hummed, smiling. Harry, to be truthful, enjoyed the attention and craved the indignant reactions he gave. They were coming so natural to him.

"Aragorn is really nice to me, though he is worse than elves of hundreds combined!" Archir joked towards the ending. Frodo laughed and the hobbits and child sat in silence.

"The council shall be starting soon," Frodo commented lightly.

"Am I to go?" Archir asked with wide eyes.

"You shall be present to discuss your current residence and status, youngling." Gandalf said, coming up behind Frodo and slipping the Istari child up into his own arms, "Come now, we must make time to get to the council."

Frodo and Bilbo followed Gandalf as he carried Archir towards the winding path back to the house, unknowing of Samwise Gamgee snooping behind. Merry and Pippin had gone off to pester the natures once again. Looking around, Archir could find Glorfindel and Gluin of whom he met last night; in a corner alone was Strider who smiled at Archir, though strained it seemed. Elrond beckoned Frodo to his right and was beaming when he rested Archir on his lap. So precious were young children to elves, and even more so was this certain young lad who sat quietly against the elf's chest. Next to Gluin was his own son Gimli, the two exchanging their own talk. About the area was counsellors of Elrond's house, Erestor being the chief; and with him was Galdor, an Elf of Grey Havens and was in place of Cnrdan the Shipwright. Another Elf happened to be a messanger of his father Thranduil, his name being Legolas, Prince of the Elves of Nothern Mirkwood. Off to the side of others was a noble face, dark-haired, and grey-eyed as he gazed fixedly on Archir. They found his name to be Boromir.

The Council at last began and news was traded of each part of the world before Elrond spoke of Sauron and the Rings of Power, forging the Second Age long ago. He told of the One Ring that was to be the master of all the rings. This moved the topic towards the One Ring itself after the talk of Gil-galad and upon hearing of Isildur's adventure, he cried out, breaking their words.

"So that is what became of the Ring! Whatever has happened to it now?" He asked.

"Isildur took it and refused to destroy it at his chance. It was with his own karma that the ring escaped him, killing him as a traitor before falling unveiled." Elrond said. The conversation moved on before Strider stood up, bringing out the two broken pieces of the blade, "HEre is the Sword that was broken because of Isildur!"

"And who might you be and your reason for having such a thing!" Boromir said in disbelief.

"I am Aragorn, son of Arathorn. Descendant of Isildur Elendil's son of Minas Ithil! I am also Cheif of the Dunedain, must you know." Strider said calmly.

"Then it belongs to you, and not to me at all!" Frodo yelled, standing up on his feet. Elrond wrapped his arms around Archir as all was spoken. Gandalf requested Frodo to reveal the ring and Archir's small voice broke to Frodo first, in a whisper.

"Can I see the ring for a sec, Frodo?" Archir asked quietly, his eyes wide with curiousity. The council were quiet, watching the exchange and Elrond gazed at the boy in his lap. Upon the hush, all eyes were on them as Frodo nodded and very slowly pulled out the Ring of Power. He had a look of surprise as he felt no reluctance to hand it to Archir, though he did to show the council. Archir touched the ring and stiffened, alarming Elrond before the boy looked ever so daring and to all amazements of the council, he slipped the ring on his finger...

And nothing happened.

"It doesn't work," Archir couldn't help but pout. Frodo stared at the child.

"Tom Bombadill did the same thing and had such the same results, remember Archir?" Frodo said. Archir nodded, crossing his arms as he handed it back easily.

"My word," Aragorn breathed as he studied the lightly frowning toddler in the arms of the head Elf. It was afterwords that they began to tell of the stories. Starting with Bilbo who told the truth, the whole truth. Frodo was less than willing and told of how he started with little Archir and journeyed until they at last made to Rivendell. There were so many questions and considered remarks that it took much longer than expected. Wonder came from the inhabitants at hearing about Archir who blushed lightly.

"Archir the Emerald? An Istari Child?" Boromir asked in awe. Gandalf stood as Frodo sat down.

"Yes, Yes. Archir has been for three summers and has proved to be a valuable treasure that I wish for you all to protect. Now I think you may be wanting my tale of adventure now?" Gandalf spoke, waiting for Elrond who nodded. As he talked, Harry was reminded of how similar this world was to his. A hero, creatures, magic, an alliance of all kinds, battles, an evil doer, and a magical object that granted invisibility but, came from a long history. Archir rested his head against Elrond's chest, beginning to give each person around him a name. Gandalf certainly fit Albus. Gimli reminded him of a Hagrid. Sam was like a Ron, Merry like a Hermione, Frodo being his old self, and Pippin was like Neville. Aragorn reminded Archir of Sirius Black and possibly his dad before he died. Arwen was possibly like his mum, as he remembered seeing her loving nature around Aragorn. Elrond... Archir blinked. What was Elrond like? He spent most of that time to think of a name for Elrond when he finally caught one in his memories. Nicholas Flamel. They were both even immortal!

Archir blinked as Bilbo had suddenly stood up, claiming to take the ring back to finish it. He cocked his head to the side. He was even more surprised when Elrond told him that he should rest and not do so. There was bustling about and silence overwhelmed until Frodo looked into Archir's emerald eyes before standing up daringly.

"I will take the Ring," he told them all firmly, "though I do not know the way. It is but a heavy burden and that I do not wish it upon any. But, if you must, I give it to you freely at your own fate."

The words had seemed to be the ending of the meeting before Sam cried out and revealed himself an eavesdropper, wishing Frodo not to go alone. Elrond called end to their council and rested Archir's feet lightly on the ground. The little boy dearly wished to run off to do what he wished, or have a moment alone, but Aragorn had taken captive of his hand and was pulling him along to where Elrond and Gandalf now lay talking.

"Gandalf. Master Elrond. I do not wish for Archir to journey with the companions that you choose, it is unsafe for a youngling." Aragorn whispered quietly. Gandalf chuckled lightly.

"You know that you will be going I see. I am afraid that I must insist that young Archir the Emerald attend this adventure. His powers may not have expanded just this yet but, he shall be very valuable and helpful to you." Gandalf replied.

"I feel we should choose on the day of departure," Elrond sighed before he left them. Aragorn pulled Archir up into his arms and carried him to his nursery.

"I want to come. I want to help." Archir told Aragorn quietly as he was laid upon the large bed.

"It isn't safe for you, We'll talk about this later." Aragorn said firmly as Archir opened his mouth to protest. Archir reluctantly closed his eyes as Aragorn covered him up and tucked him into the bed, kissing his small cheek. Archir fell asleep shortly after.

"He is resting now I take it?" a voice called from the hallway and Aragorn turned to see Glorfindel.

"That he is," Aragorn said with a smile. Glorfindel nodded and studied the flushed cheeks of the little one that was daringly loved by the elves of Rivendell indeed.

"He may have to go with," Glorfindel pointed out and Aragorn's smile slipped off.

"I do not with to set danger anywhere upon him. He is more precious than that." Aragorn said firmly. The occupants continued their own conversation late into the eve, with Archir fast asleep. When months passed by in Rivendell of endless fun and healing for them all, the day came of 2 months later where they gathered about for the departure of the ring.

"I will take the Ring to Mordor. Though... I do not know the way as I've said before," Frodo said on that day of the eve.

"I will help you bear this burden, my dear Frodo Baggins, for as long as it is yours to bear." Gandalf told him kindly.

"If, by my life or death, I can protect you, I will. You have my sword, Frodo." Aragorn said firmly, standing next to Frodo who looked up at the man in relief and also trust. Aragorn smiled, frowning as he could not spot the small boy that.

"And you have my bow, to guide you and to represent the Elves," Legolas stated as he appeared, walking over to them with a smile. Aragorn shared a grin with the elf.

"And my axe for it carries a strength you have yet to find! I shall go to also represent the dwarves!" Gimli shouted, bulking his way to the group of four.

"You carry the fates of us all, Frodo Baggins of the Shire, son of Drogo. Even more so than just your own kind. If this is indeed the will of our Council, the beacon of light, then Gondor will see it done and I shall see it through for them." Boromir said with his own pride. Sam squeaked and came tumbling in indignantly.

"Mr. Frodo shall not leave without I!"

"And I!" Merry and Pippin shouted just as much, coming up behind then.

"Dare stop us only by tieing us in a sack and locking us away!" Merry said firmly. Frodo felt touched at their words before he looked around for the child.

"I wish to come, if only to prove my worth and to help. If not for that, then let me go to give you breath." A small voice came about. The many inhabitats gathered looked around wildly for the boy whose voice belonged.

"Here," Archir said softly, swarming into view right beside them all. He was smiling as innocently as he always did, this time a touch of plead in his eyes. Aragorn wished not to see the eyes, knowing he might give in.

"It is a danger," Aragorn said softly, not wanting his young charge to go with, to be hurt possibly.

"That I will take. I don't want to be without you all." Archir retorted. Gandalf was smiling like a fool.

"You've mastered a few select magic abilities of your own, I can see." Gandalf observed. Archir gave Gandalf a sheepish grin before holding out the little staff that belonged to him, now painted a deep black with emerald sparks around the holly wood. A bird flew out of the staff and suddenly burst into flames, turning into ashes.

"I can become invisible as well, since the ring does not want me," Archir said, pouting like always as he mentioned the rings hate of him. Gandalf knew this was because an Istari could not be influenced by the ring, and oddity in itself.

"So I will come," Archir said flatly.

"I do not see why not," Elrond told them and Aragorn sighed, flating in defeat. He did walk over to the child and pick Archir up though.

"You and me are going to have to talk you know. You will come, but you will listen to us all every step of the way Archir the Emerald, student of Gandalf and Istari child." Aragorn said. Archir grinned at him.

**Author's Note: Archir is pronounced /Archer/ though you COULD say /Ark - Er/ if you wish too. This fic is a mention of both movie and book as it goes on. I wonder if you notice the ALMOST quote of the movie when they made the Fellowship of the Ring moment. I've reworded most of it and I feel accomplished. I'm updating quickly and having fun doing this. Yes Harry has his memory of his old self... The good memories. He does not remember the terrible memories as much as the others. He is still humbled down by his childhood with the Dursleys, for his manners and behavior never faded from that torment. Harry can do magic and will be seen struggling as his power grows. I gave you a little magic today so that you'll know. Not much but, alas I can not find a more touching way.**


	4. Going South

**Ring Child**

**by Kiamii**

**Chapter Four "Going South"**

The end of December began to come and by now the Company of ten were packed with their needed items and headed out from dusk. Their horses were carrying bags of few items and Aragorn had strictly made sure that Archir had anything he could possibly need on such a long travel. Archir would often giggle, finding him so similar to Molly Weasley at those times, and could not stop laughing to tell the others what he found so hilarious.

They set out, Archir riding upon the horse with Aragorn as they traveled out on the Quest of Mount Doom. Frodo had turned on his own horse to watch the Last Homely House with a last glance, seeing Bilbo, before they faded from view. He sighed and turned back to the road sight. They headed off the road upon reaching the Ford of Bruinen and they sought to hold that course they now took, for many days.

In front of Frodo rode Gandalf, Aragorn and Archir next to him. Behind him was Bormir, keeping his eyes searchingly about. Behind him came Gimli who admired his ax as he watched the lands about him. Followed by them was Sam, Pippin, and Merry before Legolas brought up the rear. Archir would sleep during their ride and play when he wanted, always practicing his magic as he did so, under Gandalf's guidance. The wizard seemed to know as much as possibly stuffed in his old and weary mind. Archir found Gandalf so much like Albus, he found an admiration towards the Istari that taught him to concentrate on the core and stem of his magic. He still had to use his wand, though with Gandalf's help he hardly said his word aloud. Legolas and Gimli would attempt to teach him how to fight with a sword, should he lose his wand. That scene had been quite the entertaining feature as Archir could barely hold one up. Aragorn spent much time with the boy, telling him tales of his childhood, tucking in Archir upon those eves. The man would help Archir through a nightmare should he encounter one.

Boromir was a kind man of his own and would tell Archir of Gondor and his brother Faramir, of his fun and of his troubles. The man was tall and broad, a friendly face on him when he was not near Frodo and therefore near the ring of course. Judging from his tone and words, Boromir dearly loved his little brother and wished he could see him again, though their father was unkind. Archir felt that Boromir's father and Faramir's situation was one of Percy Weasley and his family. He was beginning to see from his last encounter, that Percy had only wanted to be the approval of the family, for he cared too much of them but, had been ignorant until he came to almost losing them to darkness... Pippin and Merry were so close and similar to Ron and Hermione that it amused Archir to no end. They bickered, belittled, and befriended just like his two best friends. They were also the Weasley Twins when they became quite the pranksters and jokesters that they truly were. Their voice filled with song when they felt the need to lighten the mood upon them all. Archir frankly found them fun to listen to, for their voices and rhymes were interesting. Sam was a loyal fellow who stuck to Frodo, who bore the pressure of mind slowly and Archir could see it now. He was Frodo's gardener, from what Archir had found out when he first found himself in the Shire. The hobbit was ever so curious about anything and everything, especially when it came to his master Frodo's safety. He found protectiveness towards Archir as well it seemed, always making sure that Archir ate as well as Frodo. Frodo was like Harry was once long ago, probably when he was 11 and finding himself famous and carrying a burden of his own, being a hero. With each day passing, Frodo grew like Harry lived each year at Hogwarts. More weary and wary, carrying another secret of burden and of terror. Always being the hero. Archir looked at Frodo and could see how much the ring affected the hobbit. He had to give Frodo credit for that...

The hobbits would play with Archir when he got bored and Archir was ever glad that he had gone with them. They were kind and generous and would often lighten his spirits up. Archir smiled as they currently were asleep themselves.

The talk with Archir had been mildly surprising, Archir recalled as he currently lay about in Aragorn's arms at the spot they were resting tonight at. The first having been Aragorn demanding to know why Archir was so insistent on putting his life in danger. Archir, unable to comprehend how Aragorn was fretting, had simply replied what he knew was his own truth.

_"Trouble always finds me anyways and I wished to accompany you all. I didn't want to be left behind with the elves," Archir murmured. Aragorn had sighed and taken the boy into his arms, still amazed at the warm feeling he got when he did so._

_"You are only of three summers, you are still a very small child," Aragorn said softly._

_"I'm 17 in mind," Archir told him with an almost whine in his tone. Aragorn stopped what he was doing and looked at the little boy in his arms, just enough time that allowed Gandalf to walk into the area and settle next to them._

_"Are you now? Did you know Gandalf?" Aragorn asked with a quirked eyebrow._

_"I did indeed. He has been here for three summers, yet he has the intelligence of once of seventeen summers my dear friend. That is why I allow him on this journey. He will come to grow eventually but, not now." Gandalf said gently. The man shook his head in almost defeat and just cuddled the boy to him._

_"You have still yet to be tall, young one." Aragorn said with amusement as Archir looked put out at the notion._

_"He is an immortal like I, so his body has yet to grow until he reaches a majority age." Gandalf explained. Aragorn nodded his head in understanding this time, still not letting the Istari child go. Archir leaned back against him and had closed his eyes._

"Sleep now, Archir, you need to rest for the journey ahead and none of it will be pleasant if you do not rest beforehand," Aragorn said softly as he cradled Archir to him one last time before resting him in the blanket that Archir carried. Archir obeyed and was soon dreaming away the night.

"He is far young to be here with us," Boromir said as he sat down next to Aragorn.

"Aye, that he is. He has a mind that I can not hope to understand, though Gandalf knows at least. He is only three though, and I did not want him to come. I blame wizards." Aragorn sighed, raking a hand through his own black hair. Legolas joined the two men.

"The little boy would have found a way to us unknowingly if we had left him. He is an Istari and they are sent to us from the Valar with reason. Gandalf seemed to predict his moves, so took him along with us. If something happens on our journey that makes it unsafe, then we will send him to an elf settlement so the elves can take care of the boy. Until then, we continue forward and keep Archir as safe as one can in this situation," Legolas told the two who grumbled but, nodded. Boromir's eye caught thrashing and the three found themselves with a thrashing child, nearly screaming.

"He is having a very gruesome nightmare," Boromir noted, holding the boy down which only served to make the boy worse. Not a sound escaped his lips, though he thrashed as if struck. Words began to spew from the toddler's mouth. Words that turned their hearts cold at the very sound of sentence structure.

"Please Uncle. I'll be good," Archir was whispered under his breath after Aragorn had held a hand to the boy's forehead. Aragorn snapped his hand back, as if burned. They gazed at each other in horror.

"Archir! Archir! Child, please wake up," Legolas said, trying to get the poor child out of his memory. Aragorn did what he thought best, he took Archir from the blankets and held the boy to his chest, tucking the small head under his chin and holding his arms around Archir's entire body, that was curled up like a ball. He breathed in relief when Archir stirred slightly before falling back asleep, feeling the warmth that Aragorn was providing him. Aragorn settled Archir back into the nest of blankets, tucking him in before turning back to the others who looked horrified. Gimli had joined the three in their huddle.

"I wonder who this uncle is to have hurt such a small child," growled Boromir. Aragorn couldn't help but agree with the man, despite their rivalry arguments they've held for days. The two had bickered about Aragorn's opinion of his own kind. Boromir was dismayed upon news of Aragorn being descendant of Isildur of course but, wisely he kept his mouth closed near the other who had lived with elves. Shaking his head out of his stupor, Aragorn bit his cheek and gazed upon the sleeping body of the child that he felt a strong pull to protect. Already Archir had wormed his way into Aragorn's heart like Arwin had, the small boy being impossibly more mature than a child his age. Aragorn looked at the boy with a light frown. Obviously, Archir had been abused by this 'uncle' person. He'd have to try to get the information from Archir later on. For now, he retired to sleeping as the night wore on, staying near Archir's sleeping form.

They traveled through, having to switch to a more unwatched path, after the encounter of the birds that flew about. Hollin was no longer safe, neither being Redhorn Gate for Sarmon had managed to find it watched, seeking out Frodo. They remained hiding after their run in with the spies, watching as the dark birds passed them every now and then before the sun turned red and dusk started them to leave, walking the remains of an ancient road as they were guided by Aragorn. The moonlight shone above them as they rode their horses, Archir sitting with Gandalf and practicing something that none but the two wizards could see, it seemed.

"Yes, like that," Gandalf said gently as Archir looked at his small hands and let a small orb float out.

"And this could destroy more than 50 orcs?" Archir asked in amazement. Gandalf grinned and rustled the boy's raven hair, chuckling as Archir let out an indignant squeal, releasing the orb to diminish.

"You have powers that will only shine at this age, which is why the Valar have given you this body and size. You will be underestimated, though you will have the emotions and still feel like one of three. With curses come charms of course," Gandalf said wisely.

"How do you know so much, Alf?" Archir asked, pouting. Gandalf smiled at the dubbed name that the toddler had given to him, shaking his head.

"The Valar have given Istari many things, all a task and all a life. I merely chose to be... acquainted with the Valar more than other wizards here on Middle Earth. I saw your life from before Archir, especially your life as a child. I did not like what I saw. You've never really grown a child but, a man." Gandalf sighed, drawing the surprised boy to his chest, marvelling in the quiet ruffling of the wind. Archir accepted his words, though he frowned.

"Get some sleep my boy. You are young and you'll need your rest, for it will energize you for the journey to come," Gandalf said soothingly.

"This makes me such a burden, having to sleep so much and be carried because of my size," Archir sighed, nevertheless getting comfortable against his mentor and closing his eyes. A hand was lightly pressed against his head, fingers delicately carting through his black locks.

"Yet your innocence brings forth a light that I have not seen in some for a long time. Your size may keep a few sane on this journey child." Gandalf murmured, "you are no burden, more of an aid and a hope."

Gandalf's eyes searched the Company as he held Archir, his eyes stopping at Aragorn who talked with Legolas quietly with a dart to Archir's sleeping form.

"A hope indeed," Gandalf whispered to the sleeping frame, his eyes on Aragorn who was smiling.

**Author's Note: I know you guys are confused at why I "jump ahead" in each scene to another. Frankly, I have OCD and can get distracted very easily in writing. But besides that, I felt I needed to hurry it up justtt a tad to actually get to the real journey. So voila! Trust me when I say that I made Harry that tiny and young for a reason. Blah. I'll update again when I'm not clouded by laziness. I hope you liked this chapter, more to definitely come! Next chapter they enter Moria! Ooooohhhh. Fun!**


	5. Moria

**Ring Child**

**by Kiamii**

**Chapter Five "Moria"**

"We have only one more path that we can take, against the option of returning to Rivendell in retreat. The travel now is a worse road than Redhorn Gate. The road that I speak of is the path to the Mines of Moria." Gandalf told them this one evening on their travels. He sat upon the floor, smoking his near forgotten pipe, his eyes scanning the other's. His companions.

"The road may lead us there but, let us hope we will not have to go into the mines themselves," Aragorn said, a vein in his forehead throbbing as Archir sat upon his lap and Aragorn kept his arms around the boy who watched them all so curiously and intently. He was irritated by how much the innocent little boy wanted to put himself in danger. Aragorn wished right then and there to hide Archir away with Arwin, keeping the little boy safe and as far away from Moria as he could but, he couldn't. He had agreed he wouldn't... yet.

"I say we go to the Gap of Rohan and from there to Gondor," Boromir interrupted happily, sitting near Legolas and Gimli who were arguing who was better before joining the conversation as well, giving rapt and undivided attention. Gandalf shook his head at Boromir.

"Such an unwise path that would lead us through, for we must not let the Ring at all near Isengard where Saruman lies. We have such little time left in our hourglass and we can not let a hole puncture out the rest. I fear that we have no other way but to go neither over or around but, under the mountains themselves." Gandalf said with a heavy sigh. Archir cocked his head to one side in a puzzled manner. On one of the nights with Gandalf, his mentor had taken to giving him a history lesson of sorts. From what he remembered of that lesson, Moria was a danger to take for them. Why go to that danger then? Boromir seemed very keen on returning to his homeland it seemed.

"I will tread the path with you, to go and look on the halls of Durin," Gimli said in support.

"I too have once passed the Dimrill Gate but, I experienced such evil in my memory from it. I do not wish to repeat my adventure." Aragorn admitted.

"I do not wish to enter it at all!" Pippin informed them with Sam agreeing.

"Of course not, who in their minds would want to. But, I ask this of you; who will follow me if I should lead you to the mines?" Gandalf asked, shifting to be somewhat more comfortable as they sat on the dirt and micro amount of grass. They did not have long before they had to make their decision to go whichever way they needed. When it came to the ring, even the immortals must make haste.

"I will!" Gimli stated at once.

"As will I," Aragorn sighed. Archir felt his chest rumble as he spoke loudly but, softly so not to be heard out of their group.

"I always would," Archir said with an innocent smile when Aragorn nearly glared at him for volunteering to follow. Archir simply adjusted himself on Aragorn's lap and smiled when the man tightened his arms around Archir. His innocent looks was something Aragorn wished to deeply protect, for he was still a child in his eyes, no matter the wisdom that Archir held.

"I choose not to unless everyone goes against me," Boromir said firmly. His eyes looked at Archir with a thoughtful frown though, as if agreeing with Aragorn's private musings.

"I wish not to seek for Moria," Legolas said quietly, not looking at Archir for he too did not want the child anywhere near there. The dangers of Moria was enough to send anyone scurrying off.

"Neither do I but, I do not leave Gandalf. I will go," Frodo said quietly, the hobbits going wherever Frodo chose. That settled, Legolas and Boromir reluctantly retold their votes as going, looking put out in their own ways.

With that now settled and meeting of the Company adjourned, they began to climb to the top of a small hill which was dubbed a shelter, and began to light a fire fleeing from the wargs that trailed behind. Aragorn kept Archir firmly on the horse as they road off into the night until at last they escaped the wargs, and they sought refuge for the remainder of dark. As they all lay on their makeshift bedding, Aragorn slept with an arm looped around the 3-year-old Istari, strangely enough feeling warm. He did not know that Archir practiced his fire abilities during that night, warming the two of them greatly as he stayed awake.

When they all awoke the next day, they found themselves heading out for the doors of Moria, reaching it just before sunset. They had passed a stream long ago and had only stopped to listen to Gandalf's explanations. A former stream though it was. Sirannon, the Gate-stream which was now dehydrated of the water that was once there. According to Gandalf, many things had changed for him. The Stair Falls were no longer there and a shallow valley up to the walls of Moria were missing. They found that they had to travel at a different means and with reluctance, found themselves having to release away the horses they all had.

"I will carry you from here Archir," Aragorn said firmly as they took the pack off their horses and strapped them on their shoulders. Archir gave Aragorn a pout and ran over to Gimli before Aragorn could pick him up. The small boy took the dwarf's hand in his and walked alongside him, not eager to be carried at this moment. Aragorn rolled his eyes, hiding the fondness that struck up in his heart as they set out on their journey.

When Gandalf set a faster pace, Archir had no choice but to be carried in Aragorn's arms as he walked at such a speed that young Archir would be running to keep up with. Archir sulked and whined in his head how the Valar had done that on purpose to him. Make him small to keep him from leaving Aragorn's arms while they ran. Aragorn laughed at Archir's pout and turned back to where they were headed. When they reached the gate at last, they sat down and rested for a minute.

"I don't see the doors," Merry said in confusion, looking around.

"That is because Dwarf-doors are made to be hidden, only found with the right secret." Gimli said, finding the door somewhat.

"Yet this was not a secret for the Dwarves only, unless changed of course." Gandalf said slowly as he studied the door. Archir, having gotten out of Aragorn's grasp, looked at the door as he stood next to the man.

"Alf, what's that?" Archir asked, pointing towards the archway where a design could be seen. The emblems of Durin could be seen as brightly as the Tree of the High Elves and Star of the House of Flanor as they stood proudly in the arch. Wrought of _ithildin_ that mirrors that could only be seen in moonlight or starlight, sleeping away from those who could not know them. Their words were forgotten in Middle-earth.

"What's the writing tell?" Frodo asked, coming up next to Archir and putting his hand on the child's shoulders.

"_The Doors of Durin, Lord of Moria. Speak, friend, and enter."_ Archir read aloud, scrunching his eyes in a rather cute manner, _"I, Narvi, made them. Celebrimbor of Hollin drew these signs_."

"Quite a reader you are, and a very good translator," Gandalf chuckled, watching as Archir blushed lightly.

"Then it means if you are a friend, speak the password, and the doors will open, and you can enter. Simple as that! Now, the password is the only missing key in that reasonable deduction." Gimli said lightly. Gandalf nodded and Archir watched as his mentor and the dwarf spoke of the possible passwords to use. Archir cocked his head to the side, not minding as Aragorn lifted him up and carried him over to Legolas and Boromir.

Archir listened as Gandalf chanted and banged, trying to gain access in many languages that Archir found himself knowing. He could somewhat tell when Gandalf switched languages, for his accent and words changed, all meaning the same thing. Boromir studied the small wizard.

"Can you understand his words?" Boromir asked.

"He keeps saying Open." Archir said with a light shrug.

"The power of an Istari," Legolas said with a smile tugging at his lips. Archir cocked his head to the side again before sliding off Aragorn's lap and walking over to the gate where Gandalf stood, head bowed. The four watched him walk back over to Gandalf.

"Alf, can I try?" Archir asked as the Company came back over. They looked at Archir as he pulled out his small staff, the holly wooded wand, and pointed at the gate and thought about it for a moment. From his history lessons with Gandalf, some Dwarves found themselves using Elvish names so...

"_Mellon_," Archir said, poking the gate with his wand. To their amazement the door opened indeed.

"Such a simple riddle that of course, my prodigy could guess," Gandalf exclaimed, chuckling fondly as he himself lifted the tiny lad up into his arms.

"You just said Friend in elvish, didn't you?" Legolas asked, raising an eyebrow.

"It reminded me of something I saw before." Archir said tilting his head forward, arms around Gandalf's neck.

"Oh?" Aragorn stated. Harry grinned as he remembered being 11 years old and peering into a long forgotten mirror.

"Erised stra ehru oyt ube cafru oyt on woshi." Archir said lightly, making everyone pause to look at him.

"I show not your face but, your heart's desire?" Gandalf guessed, suddenly seeing what Archir said. Archir smiled brightly, nodding.

"It was a mirror that showed what you most desire out of anything in the world," Archir admitted to Gandalf in a whisper. The wizard "ahh"ed for a moment before they began to walk inside when Frodo cried out and they swung around to see a creature gripping onto Frodo's ankle, the sound of the water smashing against a tentacle. It was something Archir felt was like the evil twin of the Giant Squid back at Hogwarts.

"Into the gateway and up the stairs! Hurry!" Gandalf shouted, having scooped Archir up into his arms and able to pull away from the squid before it caught the two wizards. Sam managed to rip his master from the squid and the two ran up just a few steps just before Gandalf passed Archir to Legolas and watched as the squid managed to lock itself out...

"Weird creature," Archir stated, getting a nod from Legolas as he carried the boy up the stairs, having heard from Gandalf that they could now not return out of the gates, only able to go forward.

"Simply follow my staff, and Archir if you so wish to light your own," Gandalf said as Archir pulled out his wand and before he could murmur the words lumos, a light came out of his wand, surprising the boy. Shrugging it off as what Gandalf had said about his magic changing, he poked his staff in front of Legolas as they walked, following Gandalf's dimly lit staff. They stopped for a short rest, rechecking their belongings to notice that they were running low on food. Aragorn handed Legolas a blanket who bundled a protesting Archir in it and sat the toddler on his hip, keeping Archir away from his elven bow and arrows. They continued forward, Legolas passing Archir over to Aragorn who drew his sword while Legolas drew his bow. Frodo pulled forth Sting while the others followed in withdrawing their own weaponry. Archir held out his wand, keeping it lightly lit. It was mostly Gandalf who led the way through, as Gimli had not come through before. They traveled through for a long time, taking sharp turns and descending towards the earth of it all. Moria was vast and intricate beyond the imagination of them all as they walked. They noticed Gandalf having his own conflicts with his far-off memories of a journey once traveled so many decades ago.

As they walked, Archir listened to the footsteps of each; the near ghostly patter of Gandalf and his staff, the dull stump of Gimli's dwarf-boots, the heavy tread of Boromir, the light step of Legolas, the soft, scarce-heard patter of hobbit-feet; and in the rear was the slow firm footfalls of Aragorn's long strides with Archir on his hip. What struck Archir's instincts was the moment they entered seemingly the guardroom, according to Gimli. It had three passages with a well.

Archir's eyes trailed along the skeletons that were lying about, watching as Pippin crept around the well while everyone else were unrolling their blankets and making a bed, ready to drop for the night. Archir's heart dropped and he wriggled out of Aragorn's arms as Pippin dropped a stone down the well and a plunk was heard.

"Fool of a Took!" Gandalf said with a fierce scowl, beginning to lecture the hobbit. Archir whimpered as he heard a faint knock of _tom-tap, tap-tom_ from far about, though they repeated before dying away. It was like a code, he mused as he was swept up into Aragorn's arms yet again and settled on the man's hip. Pippin was the one forced to keep watch that night as they settled down.

"Go to sleep youngling," Aragorn said softly, tucking the blanket around the toddler as he laid the little boy down. Archir however, was frowning lightly.

"I don't like this place. Something's going to happen, I can feel it." Archir murmured sleepily.

"Something good or something bad, child?" Gandalf asked with a quirked eyebrow.

"Something bad for the Company, yet something good to later be," Archir yawned as he felt his eyes flutter close and a hand was placed over his eyes, using their thumb to rub his forehead soothingly. Archir fell into bliss.

_All that is gold does not glitter,_

_Not all those who wander are lost;_

_The old that is strong does not wither,_

_Deep roots are not reached by the frost._

_From the ashes a frie shall be woken,_

_A light from the shadows shall spring;_

_Renewed shall be blade that was broken,_

_The crownless again shall be king (FOTR PG407)_

An image of Aragorn staring defiantly into a crowd, bold and strong as a crown was worn upon his head. He had almost defeated and victorious eyes as an elven woman stood next to him, Arwin. Archir smiled at the image though he frowned at seeing a blur of a child before Aragorn lifted the boy up. Archir's eyes widened slightly as he saw himself, possibly the size of a eight-year-old in the vision.

_Three Rings for the Elven-kings under the sky,_

_Seven for the Dwarf-lords in their halls of stone, _

_Nine for Mortal Men doomed to die,_

_One for the Dark Lord on his dark throne_

_In the Land of Mordor where the Shadows lie._

_One Ring to rule them all. One Ring to find them,_

_One Ring to bring them all and in the darkness bind them_

_In the Land of Mordor where the Shadows lie. (FOTR PG277)_

Archir wanted to scream, cry, kick, or possibly whimper. Now laying before him was an eye of a sort. It was a slit and held a power that felt like the Imperio and the Cruciatus curse combined. Strong and filled with evil... Sauron. The vision flashed thankfully and Archir found himself in blackness, listening to a familiar tune that had been hummed to him a few times when he could not sleep a few nights before Aragorn had joined them. Frodo and Sam would sing him the song at night and the tone had soothed him for some reason.

_The Road goes ever on and on_

_Down from the door where it began._

_Now far ahead the Road has gone,_

_and I must follow, if I can,_

_Pursuing it with weary feet,_

_Until it joins some larger way,_

_Where many paths and errands meet._

_And wither then? I cannot say. (FOTR PG 302)_

"Archir, child, you need to awake." A voice sounded through the poets of words. Archir's emerald eyes snapped open and he found himself being held in Aragorn's arms, the company walking.

"You've been asleep for a very long night, my dear boy," Gandalf commented lightly, "it was a rather frightening affair."

"I'm sorry. I was dreaming. I kept hearing songs and each was different from the next." Archir admitted, slinging his arm over Aragorn's neck and peeking out at Gandalf who was next to him.

"May I know the songs of which you heard?" Gandalf asked as they threaded through an upward path.

"One was of a king I think. Something about a blade being broken. The first verse mentioned all that is gold does not glitter." Archir told the wizard. Aragorn's eyes widened slightly as he put a hand on the child's head, lost in his own thoughts. Shaking his head to rid of the memories and musings, Aragorn decided to shrug it off.

"The next I heard was of that ring. Something about nineteen rings being made I think... and another was made to rule them..." Archir said, shuddering as he recalled the eye in his dream. Gandalf frowned lightly but, brushed a lock of the black hair away from the piercing eyes before Archir continued.

"The last one was something I learned from Frodo and Sam," Archir said, finally giving a weak and small smile. Frodo and Sam returned the smile, touched that the boy still remembered the song they sang to him when he had at first been very restless constantly. They walked in silence after that and it was long enough that Gandalf stopped them and they settled for the night, finding that they were on a familiar path at last for Gandalf.

As they relaxed, Sam commented on the 'holes' that were made around the place. Gimli looked indignant and launched into a chant of long ago, about Durin. The words 'In Moria, in Khazad-dym' stuck to Archir's mind as he was laid in Boromir's lap this time, and it seemed Sam agreed, having echoed the sentence. Sam began to ask about jewels, having listened to the tales from Bilbo. This brought out the topic of mithril and Archir noticed that Frodo was biting his cheek as Bilbo's old corslet of Moria-silver (which had been gifted from Thorin as Frodo had told Archir one night before they left the Shire) was mentioned from Gandalf. Archir wondered if he was currently in possession of the kingly gift but, shrugged it off.

At least they began to doze off, though when Archir was sure Aragorn was asleep, he crawled out of the nest of blankets and walked over to Frodo, wobbling slightly from not walking as much as he had been thanks to Aragorn's insistance that he be carried all the time.

"You should be asleep Arch," Frodo said firmly, taking the little boy by his hand, being the one to keep guard.

"I slept away most of the day Fro. I do not wish to close my eyes yet so soon!" Archir nearly whined. Frodo smiled lightly and instead lead the boy to his guard position and sat back down, Archir cuddled to his side.

"Fro, do you see that?" Archir asked in interest minutes later. Frodo turned his head and rubbed his eyes as he saw two pale points of light, like luminous eyes almost as if they were moving. Rubbing again revealed nothing but, darkness.

"I thought I did, you must be tired though. Go to sleep now Archir unless you want me to tell Aragorn how you did not sleep," Frodo said with a teasing grin.

"I think he's already been caught out of bed," Legolas sighed as he lifted Archir up into his arms, "if you will not sleep now then stay in my arms while I stand guard. Get rest Frodo."

Frodo nodded and headed off to his bed while Legolas wrapped Archir up in his blankets and tucked the boy into his arms as he stood to keep watch. Archir wriggled, trying to get loose but, only managed to get his arms free. He felt like a cacoon! Upon freeing his hands, he grasped the shirt of Legolas and rested his head on the elf's arms.

"You're such a cuddler," Legolas teased making Archir scowl lightly. He yawned and closed his eyes, listening softly as Legolas began to sing a song quietly, one of his homeland probably, for it was filled with tranquility in his voice. His eyelids felt heavy and he left himself drift off...

He did not wake up until he heard Gandalf's bright "Good morning!" in his ear. He wriggled and sat up, blinking to find himself already in Aragorn's arms.

"I see you finally awoke little one. Slept well?" Aragorn asked, resulting in a nod from the little boy. They packed up their things and Archir was carried by Gandalf this time after breakfast (which they all made sure that Archir ate as much as he could).

They went under the northern arch and went down a wide corridor as they walked, finding a large square chamber which was dimly lit. Gandalf handed Archir off to Boromir who settled the Istari child on his hip. Gandalf inspected the tomb where Frodo was and spoke in wonder.

"They are Daeron's Runes, old in Moria and written in tongues of both Men and Dwarves:

Balin Son of Fundin

Lord of Moria."

"He is dead..." Frodo stated in realization. Gimli hid his face with his hood in silence, his shoulder's shaking as he mourned. Archir thought of the story he heard from Frodo on their journey. Bilbo had went on a journey in company of dwarves. He felt sorry for the dwarf who now lay, unmoving. He wriggled much until he was finally let down, where he seemed to snap them out of daze and they looked around for hints of the fate of the dwarf lord. Bones littered the room, some armed with broken swords and axe-heads, cloven shields and helms. Crooked swords and orc-scimitars with blackened blades were a sight that was seen.

They stumbled across a wall that Gandalf discovered to be the record of the fate of Balin's folk.

"We drove out orcs from the great gate and guard," He began and Archir nearly gasped aloud as he found himself in darkness again, watching as a scene formed in front of his eyes. The dwarves about them, all anxious for the moment, "we slew many in the bright", Archir watched in horror as the dwarves began to fight for their lives, for Moria and still he heard the words chopped from Gandalf, "sun in the dale. Flui was killed by an arrow. He slew the great." Archir saw a dwarf cry out as he was struck by a dark arrow, his companions crying out just as much in despair, "Flui under grass near Mirror mere." Archir found himself watching a burial of that once crying dwarf. He was almost sleeping and the halls looked to be dead and murdered by the battle, "We have taken the twenty-first hall of North end to dwell in. There is - I cannot read what it is though a shaft is mentioned," Archir found himself staring at a jewel in a dwarf's hand, being set down on a table. Along with the last of the mithril and of the weaponry to spare. Balin was now in the scene, unmurdered yet ,"Balin has set up his seat in the Chamber of Mazarbul."

"We are in the Chamber of Mazarbul then," Gimli noted, "the Chamber of Records." He said this with a sullen sigh as Aragorn went over to Archir and picked the quiet lad back up, seeing the child's despair. He rocked the boy in his arms and shushed the child to soothe him. Archir whimpered as Gandalf attempted to finish reading and he saw as it happened. Balin becoming lord. Archir tried to distract himself from the horrible images and was relieved when they finally faded when there was such a Boom from behind them that Archir turned his head to see the Company's wide eyes. A hord was being blown and more followed, feet pattering about on the other side of the door.

"Slam the doors and wedge them!" Aragorn suggested.

"No! We will be trapping ourselves in... Keep the east door ajar and we will try to escape if possible. Aragorn, keep Archir safe and hidden!" Gandalf told them. Aragorn quickly covered the little boy with his hood and found a small crack of the wall that could hide a very small body... perfect. He stood Archir in the hole and put his hands on the boy's cheeks.

"Please stay safe little one," Aragorn whispered as he kissed Archir's temple before springing off right as there was a mighty blow upon the door and it began to open. A large toe less foot peaked into the room, silence now adorning them all.

"For the Shire!" Frodo yelled, crashing the blade of the Sting into the foot. A bellow later and the foot was withdrawn and now came crashes upon the door. Archir swiftly and silently pulled out his wand, ready to cast magic should the chance come. He was going to help one way or another.

**Author's Note: Hmm... let me reply to a few reviewers who I couldn't do so in public while I have the chance;**

**billy jean - I find that rude that you think I don't read my own story. As I've said I lose train of thought very easily, I have no beta, and at least I have some grammar in me unlike some writers today. If you can't see past the grammar mistakes that a 15 year old kid like me can make, don't bother reading because it'll keep happening until I either finish High school or find a beta to look this over for me. I'm still in school and learning how to form a scene so until then, yeah I know I suck at this.**

**Jane - I'm not trying to justify my writing by blaming my OCD. It's more along the lines of that I can get stressed very easily because of my own train of thoughts and I have an addiction to anything I like, which makes me have self-hate a lot of the times and I therefore will just get frustrated and stop in the middle of the writing. When I get back to writing, I usually can't remember what the scene was developing. I'm working on that kind of thing right now but, I'm NOT trying to excuse myself. Sorry if I sounded like I was trying to. **

**Now that I could finally reply to that, you wouldn't believe how irritated I have been about all these people on my back about that. Yes I rush my scenes. It's my habit and my style. At least it still makes enough sense, right? Anyways, I actually took some time on the Moria scene, since I've been wanting to write about the actual journey for so long! I hope you've enjoyed it. I totally left a cliff hanger for fun. I'm working on it! The real battles are just about to begin in Chapter 6. So see you until then. I had a lot of fun writing this part and I'm getting eager as we get closer to leaving Moria. For some reason, Moria is like my favorite part of the Fellowship of the Rings. Don't know why. Might have something to do with the drama. All well... Archir's character and magic is getting more developed as time goes on. Yes there will be a great reason as to why Gandalf wanted Harry to partake in their journey. You'll see why later.  
**


	6. Into Darkness

**Ring Child**

**by Kiamii**

**Chapter Six "Into Darkness"**

Arrows came whistling into the room, striking the northern wall. A horn-blast seemed to start their battle for orcs of countless numbers jumped into the room and they were starting to fight now. Legolas was shooting two through a throat, Gimli hewing the legs of those who dared come near Balin's tomb, Boromir and Aragorn slaying many more. Archir, hidden between two walls of rock, had shot down more as they neared him. He gave a grin, his magic coursing through his body that he nearly felt his pulse. With over twenty now dead, the rest retreated. No one in the Company was hurt, not even Sam and the other hobbits.

The fought had begun again before Gandalf could utter a cry of run, an orc-chieftain taller than a man-high, clad in black mail all along his body, was now in the chamber with him and he weilded such a dark-tainted spear that Archir could feel the poision raidiating from with in the dangerous point. His eyes widened as he charged at Frodo.

"No!" Archir whispered in horror and he darted from his spot that Aragorn had hidden him in and ran forward, pushing Frodo from the aim of the spear. Archir's eyes went round as orbs as he felt immense pain charge through his small body. It burned like anything! He was thrown against a wall as the others yelled and Archir dizzily looked upon the creature before raising his hand and he pulled the spear away and struck the orc in the head with it, giving way for the others to kill it.

"We must leave now!" Gandalf screamed. Aragorn, his eyes filled with terror at Archir's small body, scooped the child up and fled behind the others. Merry and Pippin were slightly ahead of him. Legolas had to drag away Gimli who was reluctant to leave Balin's tomb. Archir, unable to even move as the poison spread through him, listened as Gandalf ordered Aragorn to keep going even should he stay back to hold the others off.

"G...an...dalf..." Archir whispered, trembling. Aragorn stiffened in shock and looked down to find Archir's eyes unclosing themselves ever so slightly. His heart lept with happiness. Archir was undead yet!

"Hurry!" Gandalf growled at Aragorn who nodded and took off. They went down a long flight of steps, seeing back was nothing but Gandalf's lit staff. Frodo and Sam ran together, Sam's arms around his master as if to shield him. Merry and Pippin were behind their hobbit friends and were seen fearfully running, their feet padding against the cold surface. Legolas and Gimli, for once not arguing about who was better, were gazing around Moria's darkness with silence. Archir could still hear the doom, doom from around. Gandalf returned to them moments later, nearly shaken to their wonder.

"Let us keep going for I have nearly been put out like a candle being blown. Gimli, keep ahead of me! Everyone stay near." Gandalf ordered and they descended many more steps, Archir being carried by Aragorn who clutched the boy to his chest. Gandalf noted the immense heat and finally told of his encounter with the same heat up above. Gandalf finally turned his attention to the Istari child clutching his midriff.

"Very relieved am I to know you are very much undead mellon-nin." Gandalf softly said, frowning as he saw Archir's hidden pain.

"That spear-thrust would have skewered a wild boar! Nevertheless, it was coated in poison and we must hurry to Lothlurien if you are to get well." Aragorn firmly said, his mind already set on his plan. Gandalf nodded and the traveled down to the light that led to the exit. Their hope was growing until it shattered as an unbelievable heat met them. Gandalf stopped and they followed.

"We are in the First Deep, a level very near the Gates. Second Hall of Old Moria. Across the Bridge, up a broad stair, along a wide road through the First Hall... Yes, yes we are very near of the exit but, I daresay, look!" Gandalf said and they looked out, seeing a cavernous hall that was loftier and longer than any other. A red glow, dim as it may be, peeked out from the darkness. Gandalf thanked their luck for having not taken that road and they ran once again. The last race upon them, as Gandalf so diligently told them. They took a left, Archir whimpering in pain which caused their haste further. A shrill yell reached their ears; they were seen. An arrow nearly got Frodo's head but, missed. They found themselves on the bridge and Archir burrowed his small head into Archir's shoulder, afraid to look. Aragorn tightened his arms around the boy against his chest and they ran across in single file, careful of one small wrong step should they take. They made it to the brink before two large trolls found themselves in front of them all and they were flung down to serves as gangways over such a fire. It was not the trolls that gripped them with terrors. The ranks of orcs had opened, for they had been surrounded, and they fled away.

Legolas suddenly wailed out, knowing what their fear was now, "A Balrog is to come to us! The fire has been that devilry!"

"Durin's Bane," Gimli cried, his axe slipping. Gandalf faltered and leaned on his staff heavily, thinking. His eyes were on Archir the whole time.

Boromir raised his horn, blowing into it to allow a challenging ring bellow loudly through the mines, as if many were shouting.

"Over the bridge!" Gandalf yelled, "Fly!" Aragorn kept Archir tightly in his arms and ran. Archir groaned slightly, his eyes blurry with pained tears. He hurt so much!

"Just hang in their little one," Aragorn whispered softly to the little boy, keeping the boy wrapped up tighter in his cloak, despite the burning temperature. Archir was shivering still. When he made it to the end of the bridge, he turned to see Gandalf standing in the middle of the span, his staff upon his left hand, and Glamdring glared a cold white in his other. Gandalf wasn't going to... No!

"Gandalf!" Frodo yelled, probably having realized the man was still on the bridge. It gained the company's attention but fell on deaf ears for Gandalf the Grey. The older man stood before a mighty Balrog of whom stopped as he listened to Gandalf's growl, filled with his bite.

"You cannot pass! I, servant of Secret Fire and wielder of the flame of Anor say again. You shall not pass! The dark fire will not avail you, flame of Udyn. Go back to hence you came, to the shadows for I restate my message. You. Can. Not. Pass!" Gandalf yelled, watching as the answer was not made from the Balrog whose fire felt nearly deathly, its darkness growing. The Balrog stepped forward and the wizard swayed. Archir squirmed in Aragorn's arms, wanting to be at Gandalf's side. To help. He had to!

"Let me down! Please!!" Archir murmured to Aragorn who looked at Gandalf's frame with wide eyes, refusing to let go. He hurriedly pushed Archir's small body into Legolas' arms, who clutched Archir even more firmly than the man.

"Do not let him go Legolas," Aragorn said with a frown. The elf nodded and held Archir tightly, keeping the little boy from escaping his arms. Aragorn nodded back and turned towards the scene before him.

"You cannot pass I say!" Gandalf was now repeating. With a large bound, the Balrog leaped onto the bridge, the whip it gripped was whirling and hissing about.

"Gandalf cannot stand alone. Elendil! I am with you, Gandalf!" Aragorn cried and leaped toward the wizard. He was too late, for Gandalf now lifted his large staff and he smote the bridge that he too stood upon. His staff snapped and fell away, a blinding sheet of white flames sprang up and about. The bridge was breaking and the Company stood, transfixed as the Balrog fell. A cheer would have escaped them, had the Balrog not swung its almighty sinful whip, the thongs wrapped around the Wizard's knees and dragging him down as well. Gandalf could only look at his companions one last time before his words, carried by the silence, reached them as he now fell with the enemy.

"Fly, you fools. Do not lose hope."

There was pure horrified silence and Archir, shaking unbelievably so, could not stop the sob from escaping. The fall was so terribly remarkable to Albus Dumbledore's that memories of many haunted him again, as if a leash of evil was undone and not clinging to his mind. He began to tremble and he cried into Legolas' shirt, the elf rubbing circles into his small back. Aragorn, feeling numb, led them through and away from the scene that had been in front of them. They stumbled until they reached the light and away from the drums, the thin black smoke of fire, the evil of Moria.

They did not stop for awhile until they could no longer head the Doom, Doom, Doom that the drum-beats had made. Grief overcame them all and Legolas set little Archir on the grass, unbuttoning the small clothes he wore before tending to the wound as best as he could till they reached Lothlurien. Anything to escape the emotional waves that threatened him, Legolas studied the violent mark and Archir fell into his arms when he was reclothed, sobbing horribly so that the company of nine felt their hearts nearly snap in two at the small boy's grief for his mentor. The man who taught him so much in so little time. Frodo was not looking at anyone, his own heart already broken. He couldn't get Gandalf's eyes out of his mind.

_Gandalf couldn't be gone... He couldn't. _Archir mused to himself drowsily as Aragorn lifted him up into his arms and combed through his black messy hair, calmly telling Archir that everything would be alright. They mourned for a few more moments before Aragorn convinced them to continue. Archir, feeling ill now and much too warm, fell into a fever-induced sleep that worried Aragorn. They had to hurry...

They rushed away from the Mines of Moria and continued their journey, stopping only to rest a small bit and eat. Aragorn managed to get Archir to eat a small morsel or two before falling back asleep. Boromir was the one to next carry the small Istari. Boromir carried the boy as if he was an infant, frailer than glass. The little boy tossed only slightly and turned less.

Finally, they stumbled across an area that made Legolas nearly light up. They were in a forest finally. Archir felt the light chill and shivered.

"Lothlurien! We have reached the eaves of the Golden Wood. If I am in the right, then it is also winter," Legolas cried happily, relieved. They were still over five leagues from the Gates but, they hoped the virture of the Elves would help them. Besides, Aragorn needed them ever much, to help Archir. He saw the little boy still asleep and knew they had to get to the elves.

They travelled more into the territory before finding themselves surrounded by Elves.

"They are very easy targets!" laughed a voice, causing Archir to stir in Boromir's arms. Boromir was holding Archir against his chest, the boy's head resting under his chin and at his neck. Archir was only aware of feeling cold, yet hot.

"Stop!" A commanding tone said and Legolas was whispering for them to stand still suddenly. Archir blinked open his eyes, unsure of what was happening. Elves?

"A little one in a man's arms," Another voice was saying thoughtfully. Archir shifted, wanting to see who was speaking but, he couldn't move too well.

"He is sick and we are in need of help," Legolas told them. Archir whimpered as he felt Legolas touching the wound. Archir blinked, looking down at his dirty emerald wizard robes. Legolas rubbed some of the dirt off his cloak and the bright emerald was now shining in that spot. He heard a gasp before something was murmured to the elf companion and Legolas was carrying him up somewhere, one hand wrapped around his waist. When he made it to the top, Archir could see three elves before he became dizzy. Where was he? Who were those people? Where was Gandalf now? Everything was so blurry and... he couldn't think straight... Archir closed his eyes again and let sleep overcome him.

**Author's Note: Hey! No hurting me for still letting Gandalf 'die' like that. It's a big part of Tolkien's story because Gandalf later became Gandalf the white you know. Heh. Couldn't resist. Archir is mourning like this because Gandalf was his mentor in this world like Albus was in his first world. They're a lot alike to him. As I've replied to reviewers, I have many tricks up my sleeve. I wonder what Aragorn's plan is now. The ending was very choppy because it was switching views and Archir isn't very much aware of anything. He only knew little of the events after Gandalf died, so I didn't write much with that part. I know this is shorter than last chapter but, more is to come. No worries!**


	7. The Child's Guardian

**Ring Child**

**by Kiamii**

**Chapter Seven "The Child's Guardian"**

"Archir..." A voice softly said. Harry James Potter groaned softly and turned, mumbling lightly into something soft. His hot breath blew into his face as he did so and the wizard shivered as the covers were pulled back off of him. Cold! Whoever this Archir was better get up so this person could leave him alone. All he wanted to do was sleep.

"Come on little one, you need to awaken." The voice chuckled, running a hand down Harry's cheeks. Such a warm touch... The little boy curled up even more, not wanting to be taken from his comfortable spot.

"Archir, I know you're conscious," another voice sighed before Harry felt arms loop around his waist and he was lifted up. The arms curled around his body and Harry felt himself tucked against a chest. His own hands grasped a silky material. The child wearily opened his emerald eyes and blinked before everything started coming back to him. His name was Archir the Emerald, a 3 year old Istari in Middle Earth, student of Gandalf... Gandalf. Archir bit his lip and looked at the person who was now holding him tightly, shushing the small sniffles that Archir hadn't even known he was releasing.

"I thought I was dreaming. Is... Is he really gone?" Archir whispered to Aragorn. Gandalf. Albus. Gandalf couldn't be gone. He just couldn't! Istari were immortal, right?

"Yes child, I'm sorry. I really am," Aragorn whispered back, rubbing the back of the little boy's head before rubbing circles in Archir's back. The Istari child trembled and burrowed his head into Aragorn's neck before he mourned once more for his mentor. Aragorn was very calm and patient, letting Archir release his sobs. When Archir was soothed and now quiet again, Aragorn turned to someone next to him.

"Now that the child has been healed from the attack, we must be heading out now, Aragorn son of Arathorn, if we are to make it in time." An elf said.

"Do not worry Archir, this is Haldir who will be our guide for now," Aragorn said and Archir shyly tried to hide in Aragorn's cloak, only to be pulled into Haldir arms who cradled him in his arms as if Archir was a babe.

"You are one so young to hold so much power," Haldir exclaimed, holding Archir to his chest and cuddling him. Archir squirmed in the elf's lap, blushing a bright red.

"I'm older than I look," Archir said, pouting slightly which caused the elf and man to laugh. Haldir bounced Archir upon his lap, which for some reason amused Archir and the little boy was distracted by the movement, finding it entertaining. Haldir himself looked amused that he could indeed keep the young one just as occupied as you could an elfling or any small child.

"You are still young too many though, Archir the Emerald. When we arrive, your robes will be cleaned once again though," Haldir told him, stopping the bouncing and he stood with Archir in his arms. He called to his brother and the company set out once more. Archir had insisted to at least walk until he tired and they came to that agreement... so long as he held on of their hands. So currently, his small hand was in Gimli's larger ones, since the dwarf was easier to reach.

They found themselves upon a river and Haldir constructed a slender bridge which helped them cross over. It was during this that Archir was forced to be on Haldir's hip as they crossed, for the elf was very well balanced. Sam looked a little pale until he crossed while Pippin seemed to have enjoyed his easy walk with his sure-foot skill. Frodo was still quiet and Merry pulled Pippin into another argument about only the Valar knew what. The Elves untied the ropes and they continued on until they entered the Naith of Lurien (also called the Gore) which lied between the arms of Silverlode and Anduin the Great. Archir looked confused as Haldir stated that Gimli was to be blindfolded.

Of course the dwarf argued and it was Aragorn's idea to blindfold them all. It took time before Haldir gave in, though Legolas did not look please.

"Please do not blind the Istari child though," Haldir said to his brother. Archir, in the arms of the elf, wriggled as he saw his companions become blindfolded. Haldir held him more securely, Archir lying on his back in his arms, tucked under the elf's chin.

"Shush now young one, for your friends will be alright." Haldir soothed. Archir grasped a fistful of the shirt in his hands and looked over the elf's shoulder as they continued to walk, not liking the fact that his friends were without sight. They continued well until nightfall were they lay on the ground and slept. Archir, being the only one besides the guides to be with sight, crawled to Aragorn's sleeping form and nestled his head on the man's chest, smiling when the man drew his arms around the little boy. He slept much easier that night... In the morning they continued their travel, Archir now resting comfortably in Aragorn's arms, asleep and his thumb in his mouth as he lay on the man's shoulder. Aragorn was still blindfolded until they found a host of Elves who brang news that the Lord and Lady of Galadhrim knew of them and they were regifted of their eyesight.

Archir sleepily awoke and was awed at the sight before him. Towards their left was now a great mound, covered with very delightfully green grass. Atop was a double crown grown with two circles of trees and the outer had bark of snowy white, leafless but still beautiful despite the nakedness. The trees were something that Archir would forever remember.

"We have arrived at Cerin Amroth, the heart of the ancient realm and there lies the mound of Amroth. We shall stay here for a bit before moving to the city of Galadhrim at dusk." Haldir said with delight. He was looking at the three year old boy and chuckled at the child's amazement. Aragorn adjusted the toddler in his arms and they continued up the slopes. When Haldri went up and vanished, he was found climbing to the high flet. Aragorn watched Frodo follow before the man let Archir down on his feet and watched the little boy sit down on the grass and undo his shoes.

"May I ask a reason for undoing those shoes I tied for you," Aragorn said in amusement.

"I want to feel the ground again!" Archir chirped, slipping his shoes off and letting his feet feel such a wonderful soft texture below him. Aragorn shook his head before kneeling down and tapping Archir on his nose very softly. The boy looked up at him, pouting.

"You are such a child your age when I see you like this. It is a pleasure upon these blackened days to see you smile little one," Aragorn laughed, sitting down with the boy before he held out a small golden of Elanor, Archir seeing Aragorn's eyes lightened up than ever before. He now held a distant look, as if lost in a memory. To Archir, Aragorn now looked a fair kingly man. He was a young lord tall and fair, words of elvish escaping his lips, to someone that Archir could not see. Archir looked over at Frodo who was watching them. Aragorn turned to Frodo as well and smiled at the halfling before he took Archir's small feet and began to recover them with his shoes, to Archir's protest.

"Here lies the heart of Elvendom on Earth and here my heart dwells ever, unless a light beyond the dark roads exist that we have yet to tread on. Come Frodo!" Aragorn said, almost happily as he took Archir back into his arms and Frodo's hand in his own before he left the hill of Cerin Amroth and came there never again as living man.

They rejoined the others and they walked until Haldir stopped and turned to them.

"We have now reached Caras Galadhon! The City of Galadhrim, where dwell our Lord Celeborn and Galadriel, Lady of Lurien. We will not enter here in the nothward, so we will go the southern side." Haldir said before they did as he stated. They reached a white bridge and after crossing found the great gates of the city: faced south-west and set between the ends of encircling wall that overlapped, adorned with many lamps of light.

Haldir knocked and spoke, the gates opening soundlessly. Aragorn placed Archir back on his feet and let the little boy down to follow. They climbed up and reached forth an oval shaped chamber, filled with soft light. Haldir scooped up Archir (ignoring the child's protests that he didn't need to be carried) and lead them in. Archir gave in by then and his arms were now wrapped around Haldir's neck, the child's black-haired head resting on the elf's shoulder. Frodo stood by their side as he gazed upon the two occupying the steas. Thrones. Archir noted who they were from conversations he heard. Celeborn and Galadriel.

Galadriel was very pretty, shorter than the lord though tall. Clad in white completely and hair of hers was deep gold, her face ageless and keen eyes. Galadriel's eyes found Archir's and the Lady gazed upon him with a thoughtful expression as Celeborn spoke. Archir suddenly found himself recalling things he wouldn't have remembered and shouldn't be...

_Privet Drive and being five years old, Vernon Dursley towering over him with his belt, about to bring it forth upon his back. Petunia slamming a frying pan into Harry's head, giving him a concussion. Burning a meal at age eight and Vernon forcing Harry's small hand onto the heated stove. _The pain. All of it. The hurt. The fear. _Dudley pushing Harry off the slide at school and Harry breaking his arm. _His magic healing him. The bliss of his arm being fixed. The amazement.

Archir the Emerald, student of Gandalf and ward of the Company, whimpered as he felt those forgotten memories of his childhood brought up.

"Lady Galadriel," Celeborn's voice cut through and Archir relaxed against Haldir as the memories finally stopped, though he could see Galadriel frowning, her eyes darkened.

"Come forth, Haldir, and let me seek this child that is to behold." Galadriel said softly. Haldir did as asked and placed the toddler into the Lady's arms. Galadriel felt the light weight of Archir and the frown upon her beautiful face increased. He felt probably 10 pounds even more underweight. He was also very small in her arms, probably being at the height of 50 Centimeters! (2 Feet, 1 inch).

"Now, Nine are here yet, Ten were sent from Rivendell... Tell me, where is the last companion?" Cereborn finally asked, after studying the child fighting sleep in Galadriel's arms.

"Gandalf the Grey fell into shadow, lost in Moria and unfound now." Aragorn said softly, not looking at them but, looking at the now stiffened child in the elf's arms. Galadriel pulled Archir to her shoulder and rubbed circles firmly in the wizard child's back, which only served to stop Archir's intense trembles and caused drowsiness. Galadriel smiled gently as Archir leaned against her and closed his emerald eyes, allowing his small thumb to find its path to his mouth, and he fell asleep.

"This young one has not had the needed amount of sleep that comes with his age, has he?" Galadriel asked them, studying the tired boy.

"Nay. We have had to move much too swiftly for him to rest as needed." Legolas admitted. Galadriel went over to the table next to them, which a guard had adorned with a large bassinett.

"He is still a babe, very small and very innocent, yet filled with despair and darkness." Galadriel told them, lying the child in the bassinett and covering him up. She turned back to them.

"Why has nothing of this been told to me before?" Cereborn asked to them, going back to the topic of Gandalf. The elves in the hall were still silent from shock of the loss of the wizard.

Aragorn began to recount all that had happened upon the pass of Caradhras, to Balin's book, the fight in the Chamber of Mazarbul, Archir's wounds, the Narrow Bridge, and the coming of the Terror.

"A Balrog of Morgoth, of all elf-banes the most deadly save for the one who sits inside Dark Tower." Legolas continued when Aragorn was unable to say what it was that had been so strong and so horrible. Legolas looked in amusement as the speech of Galadriel's ended (about the dwarves) and Gimli was looking at Lady Galadriel with loving eyes. Teasing material right there, Legolas mused before he looked back at Celeborn who spoke again, apologizing to Gimli for laying blame.

Their talk ended with something that had Aragorn thinking with a lighter heart.

"Yet hope remains while all the Company is true." She had said before she gazed into each of their eyes. Sam blushed in contact; Frodo, Merry, Pippin, and Gimli were unable to keep the gaze as well. Aragorn and Legolas held true while Boromir looked to be in a nightmare of his own dream. They were bid adeu before given rest upon the ground (to a hobbit's relief for they disliked sleeping up high). Archir was still very much asleep, the bassinett having been moved to a garden-like spot. Aragorn found the scene very amusing and watched the young child sleep, talking quietly with Legolas.

"So what was the blush for, Samwise Gamgee?" Pippin asked, a grin on his face, "a brake down of you happened soon after and you looked to almost have a guilty conscience. Not planning to steal my blanket tonight, are you?"

"I never thought of such a deed Peregrin," Sam huffed, "I felt as if I hadn't got nothing on, as if unclothed and naked in front of her. She was seeing inside me and was asking me questions in my own head. Thoughts of the Shire. She asked me if I was given a chance, would I go home. What would I do, she inquired. She even brought mention of young Archir. Would I take him back if I could, she wanted to know."

"I felt the same of that, only I... well I don't think I'll continue this thought," Merry said with a blush now capturing his cheeks.

"Perhaps it was a test," Boromir said thoughtfully, sitting with the hobbits, "for she offered us all something we dearly craved and something of shadow. She offered and I denied listen, for Men of Minas Tirith are true of word," Boromis said, though he did not elaborate the offer she had given. Frodo refused to say what she had said in his own head. They finally succumbed to slumber that night after Aragorn sternly told them to stop such thoughts, after Boromir nearly told evil of Lady Galadriel.

Aragorn waited for them to sleep before heading off to find one of the elves. He needed to do something first. With a small kiss upon Archir's cheek, he went to tell Lady Galadriel of his request...

_A few days passed _with the Company in Galadhrim, each healing small wounds and mental wounds. Aragorn seemed to be anxious about something as he spent as much time in Archir's presence as he could, which made the little wizard suspicious.

"Archir, come here for a second," Aragorn said quietly to the toddler. Archir looked at him before standing up from his spot next to Gimli (who had been telling him of the wonders of the Lonely Mountains) and walked over to the man. Aragorn gave the 3-year-old a gentle smile and lifted him up on his lap.

"The Company will be leaving in a few hours," Aragorn said softly to Archir. The wizard child did not like where this conversation was heading.

"Boromir told me that. Everything is already packed. So...?" Archir asked, unaware of the others behind him, listening nervously.

"Child, you are to stay here with the elves, for it is far too dangerous to continue with us." Aragorn sighed, continuing. Archir froze and stared at Aragorn before he pushed himself out of the man's lap.

"I'm going with you, nothing has happened to me yet!" Archir said stubbornly, crossing his arms. His emerald green robes blew around his ankles and he glared at Aragorn.

"Archir, you can not journey with us now. You've already been injured and... Gandalf." Aragorn said, kneeling down to the child. Archir shook with anger before he felt a conclusion of his own form.

"I get it. You just don't want a burden like me anymore," Archir trembled, shaking his head before he turned on his bare feet and took off towards another part of Galadhrim. Aragorn watched the child run from him, a sadness deep in his eyes.

"He is not a burden to us. I just don't want him hurt," Aragorn whispered to Legolas who had an arm around the man. The elf nodded in agreement. Aragorn could only hope he was doing the right thing.

**Author's Note: So... Aragorn finally got his wish and Archir is stuck with the elves, how is this going to work out for them all? I can only make you on edge when I say Archir isn't going to run off to them... but, he will still see them all very soon. I didn't know if I mentioned this or not but... Harry isn't wearing glasses. His vision has been corrected when he switched worlds. Archir got a little more harder to handle considering he IS in the body of a toddler. Yes Yes I put Archir in a bassinett because to the Elves, Archir is so very young and precious, even though they know he is 17 in mind. Or at least... Galadriel does. He's a very small child for even a 3-year-old and they see him as frail and cuddly. Evil me. All well. Harry will get his manly moments back later... much later. Hahaha. I'm on a sugar high, can't help it. Trying not to add craziness in this story while I'm bouncing around. I finally found out the normal height and weight for 3-year-olds and what their development is. Archir's magic is slowly expanding and he's having fun but, has that need to fight still. We all know Archir is going to see the Company again. Someone want to take a guess on who? I can tell you it'll be a very strange surprise. Yes, Archir is going to be stuck with the elves. I wonder how he will handle this. Do YOU think Aragorn is doing the right thing?**


	8. The Mentor's Student

**Ring Child**

**by Kiamii**

**Chapter Eight "A Mentor's Student"**

_Life was never fair to people, certain people. It could be cruel. It could be kind. Never to him had it been kind and stayed kind. He had met those that cared for him, only to have to leave him. Was he ever meant to have a family? To have someone to love and protect him? The idea of a protector, a father was something he had dreamed of since his days in the cupboard under the stairs of Privet Drive. It was a fools hope to think he'd have gotten to keep his new father figure. After all, since when had Archir (aka Harry James Potter) ever gotten his heart's desire... _Only an hour or so remained before the Company was to part and no sign of Archir the Emerald wizard child could be seen. Aragorn sighed, having guessed that the young once neglected little boy would feel betrayed. He was doing what was best in a situation of this kind, right?

Lady Galadriel did not seem pleased all that much with what Aragorn was doing to the toddler. She had pulled him aside and told him, very bluntly, of Archir's experience in the hands of men. It took a lot to make the child place so much trust in someone like mankind, Aragorn noticed bitterly. He had probably broken Archir's trust in him. Which explained the absence of the 3-year-old Istari.

"We must leave now," Aragorn sighed as he rejoined his friends, each clothed in elven-made cloaks. Frodo held in his hands, a light of a sort. Each of them all bearing a gift from the elves. Aragorn looked around one last time before dejectedly climbing into the boat with Frodo and Sam. When all was ready they set off, rowing, never were they returning to this place though they did not know this.

Meanwhile, Archir's small feet carried him to the shore at last.

"Wait!" Archir yelled as he saw that he was too late. In Archir's young hands was a carving that he had spent all his hours working on with his drawn up flame. It dropped carelessly to the water and carried away to the Company, floating against the calm wading water. Archir looked at the ground, feeling the river splash against his feet. A tear travelled down the young boy's face and joined the liquid below. So they were abandoning him, probably for good. He was a burden after all. He caused them too much trouble. At first he wanted to blame being turned into a child but, perhaps they just disliked Archir in general, he mused to himself as he felt his tears burn his eyes, his cheeks moistening.

"Goodbye..." Archir sniffed as he watched them leave. He felt arms encircle about his waist and was lifted up, cuddled to the chest of Haldir. He did not fight them, seeking comfort for once, much like he had when Gandalf was gone.

"Fear not young one, you will see them again someday." Haldir soothed as he rocked the little boy in his arms. Normally indignant at being treated so much like a babe, Archir this time gave in and clung to the elf, seeking assurance. He felt betrayal that Aragorn had left him already. That Legolas, Gimli, the Hobbits, and Boromir did not say goodbye to him. That they did not want him anymore but, he knew that he did not deserve them.

Archir was unaware that the Company had heard his anguished cry. Aragorn had turned and spotted a floating figurine in the water and lifted it out, studying it as he rowed. It was a carving of a crown with the small words "Hero" on the lower part. Aragorn bit his lip as he saw this and looked back at the faraway shore to see Haldir standing, holding this time what could only be a broken Archir.

"Regretting your decision, Estel?" Legolas asked as he spotted the young Istari, using the elven name given to Aragorn when the man had been but a child and Legolas an elfling. The two were forever friends for longest of times. Aragorn shook his head stubbornly. Archir would be safe...

...Then why did he feel like his heart was breaking? Like he had just lost the child?

Archir watched them until they disappeared before Haldir carried him back to where Galadriel was and he rested the little boy atop the cushion of the bassinet. Archir said nothing, too struck by grief to protest the coddling. Haldir covered Archir's small frame up with a thick and soft blanket, pushing the small child down on his back very gently.

"You are very much tired now, I can see. Go to sleep little one," Haldir said as he placed a small fond kiss on the Istari child. Archir sniffled and turned, burrowing his face into the cushion under his head. A blush creeped upon his cheeks, embarrassed at being tucked in and the fact that he was lying in a cradle of a sort. He just wished he was older again, while another part of him wanted to stay this size. So much trust he had put in others only to have it pushed away now. Should he trust the elves or would they too throw him to another? Archir felt his face burn in shame. He was such a burden.

"Why didn't they say goodbye? Why did Aragorn wait till today to tell me?" Archir asked Haldir, peeking out from the pillow. Haldir sighed and leaned against a tree near the bassinett made for Archir.

"He did not want to cause you grief until he had no other choice. He did wait, yet he thought you wouldn't come, too filled with hate for him," Haldir told the little boy. Archir looked at Haldir with a frown on his lips.

"I don't hate him... I just... He doesn't want me... So..." Archir stumbled. Haldir placed a hand on the boy's cheeks and Archir could only find love in Haldir's eyes.

"You are not a burden young one. You are a gift to us elves and to the Company. He treasures your safety above his own, so he chose to keep you away from danger. You will see him again, soon." Haldir assured.

"Really?" Archir couldn't help but ask childishly, though this served to make the elf laugh lightly. Archir was going to have a lot of trust issues now, thanks to Aragorn's decision, Haldir mused dryly.

"Really," He promised.

"Promise?" Archir said with a smile, holding out his little finger.

"I promise little wizard," Haldir teased, taking the finger with one of his own, as he ruffled the boy's black hair up, erecting a squeak from the 3-year-old and a child glare was directed at him before Haldir made Archir lie back down and go to sleep, thumbing the child's drying cheek until Archir's eyes fluttered close and he soon fell asleep, tucked away safely just like Aragorn had wished. Haldir sighed softly, studying the shoulder-lengthened black hair that was like a jungle. A smile unwillingly tugged at his lips at the sight of the 3-year-old. Archir was older than his years on Middle Earth, but he was still a child at heart. He had never gotten to be the child that most had been, so the Valar were repaying Archir the Emerald with this life. Though in war, they were still trying to provide the toddler with someone who would cherish him and protect him.

"Sleep well, little one," Haldir whispered, kissing the child's cheek yet again before he went off in search of someone. He found Galadriel who was holding a light crimson, tattered bag, which Haldir came to realize was Archir's travel pack. In it was a worn out night clothing, Archir's emerald robes that identified him a wizard (for Archir was wearing elven made clothes for the moment), a photograph that moved, and a stuffed creature. Such an odd looking creature, he noted. Haldir chuckled as Galadriel looked at the creature curiously.

"Elrond mentioned a trick that Archir showed them before departure. Something about a bird coming out of his staff and igniting harmless flames." Galadriel absently told him as she put the bag down and began to stroll down. Haldir followed, nodding his head as she began to speak. First softly and then rapidly, as if needing to rid herself of such memories. They were about Archir. A boy who was abused severely by his relatives. His aunt, uncle, and cousin had lain a hand on the child. Haldir felt his eyes flash and he first concentrated on calming the raging elven lady.

"He has lead a life of pain and despair, of anguish and hate..." Galadriel murmured mournfully. Haldir rested a hand lightly on the other elf's arm.

"He has come to know of love and care, though the trust is now broken for the moment. All will be well by the time this war ends," Haldir assured. Galadriel smiled small and walked fast towards the mirror. Her elegant hand grazed the reflection as images, vivid memories and furture predictions flashed into her eyes from within the mirror.

"All will be well... someday," Galadriel hummed as she ended her own view and went off to talk to a few elves... It wasn't until few days later that Galadriel smiled widely as she saw a horse. A white angelic king of all horses to be exact. Lord of horses and chief of Meras. Upon the back of the horse, Shadowfax, was nonother than he who she knew would make things right.

"Hello, old friend." The man hummed as he slid off the back and patted Shadowfax's mane.

"The little one will be pleased," Galadriel said pleasantly.

"Archir has remained in elven settlement?" Gandalf asked in surprise. Galadriel shook her head, saddened by the mere thought.

"He has been left behind, Estel wishing to leave him to safety." Galadriel spoke.

"Well, you must lead me to him for I will now take him with me. Many days and nights ahead where I will need that child and his abilities. He is far more advantage than burden," The man chuckled. Galadriel nodded and they walked.

"Tell me, what relation have you always had with Archir the Emerald," Galadriel asked curiously as they walked. The man said nothing, simply smoking his lit pipe as he spotted the once 17-year-old teen (now 3 summers old) lying on his back, tossing an orb in the air, mumbling to himself. The old man chuckled, for he had taught Archir the orb while ago. The orb, a simple toy for him to meddle with, and yet a fearful weapon against orcs.

"I miss him, I miss him and all the others." Archir said, rolling over on his stomach and looking at the grass. The old man smiled sadly at Archir before choosing now to reply to the elf.

"I? My relation is simple, yet complicated. I would say a figure of roles, or perhaps a friend. For now I shall say the easiest of titles. He is a Mentor's Student. He is my student," the old man stated before he turned to Galadriel.

"You have always been a puzzle, Gandalf the gray," Galadriel shook her head.

"Gandalf the Gray is no more. For I am Gandalf the White," Gandalf said humbly as he gazed upon the Istari child who would forever change Middle Earth, like he changed his own first home. He only hoped he had a flicker of chance to fix what Aragorn had chosen to do. To lose a littlun's trust was to break a heart of many after all...

"Archir the Emerald, I daresay you've lazed about for a moment too many now," Gandalf said loudly as he saw Archir immediately jump up and looked around before his bright eyes landed upon him. The child gazed and walked shakingly over to him.

"G-Gandalf?" Archir stammered. Gandalf knew down and placed a hand on the child's cheek. Archir looked at him, so lost and so hurt that Gandalf wanted to pull him into his arms and curse Aragorn for misplacing Archir's trust. Yet he did not, he simply nodded and let the toddler tear up. So little pain and so much relief was emitted in his tears this time. Gandalf lifted Archir up onto his hip and hugged Archir.

"Yes Archir, I am here now to lead you once again and I will not unwillingly leave you again unless you know beforehand," Gandalf said so matter-of-factly that Archir had to smile. Galadriel chuckled at the reunion.

"I take it that I should prepare Archir's items to take with you, for you are stealing my charge now are you not?" Galadriel teased lightly, causing Archir's eyes to shine brighter than they had days ago when Aragorn and the others had left. Galadriel felt her heart lift as she saw the look. She smiled. Perhaps not all of Archir's trust would remain lost after all.

**Author's Note: Let me just have fun and say this. I will use flamers to cook my omelett! Ha. Alright, now I know there were concerns about Aragorn being "Cruel" and "True" or something along those lines. There are a lot of pros and cons to either argument. Blah. So I spent most of this chapter for those people who seem to LOVE the elves Haldir and Galadriel. Overprotective Elves. I wanted to give Galadriel some downpoints as well. If you guys KEEP at it with Archir's age, I will. Hunt. You. Down! Jeez, stop being so whiny about his age. All. Well. Yes! Gandalf is back and here to steal Archir. Can anyone guess where they'll meet the others? The last bit might seem rushed but, hey its mysterious Gandalf. I got a little tired towards the end anyways. I'm running on pure caffine to write this. Be happy and review? Dunno.  
**


	9. The Forest Tells All

**Ring Child**

**By Kiamii**

**Chapter Nine "The Forest tells all"**

The road went ever, ever on just like in the song composed by Bilbo Baggins. The dew grass sparked in the mid-sun rising and the trees could sense two wizards riding towards them in the forest. Lembas bread and a pack of other elven-made food was packed safely in Archir the Emerald's travel pack, his elven clothes switched back out so that he now wore his shining Emerald green cloak as Gandalf for his blinding white. The two wizards rode on the back of Shadowfax. Their staff each in their hands as they came to a swift stop and Gandalf slid off, picking up Archir and holding the toddler in his arms.

"I shant let you down just yet, young one, for there are many things on floors that could take away you." Gandalf chuckled as he rested Archir on his hip and kept an arm around the child. Archir did nothing, but leaned against his mentor quietly. He did not protest to whatever thing that Gandalf did, for he always did it with reason.

Gandalf the White and Archir the Emerald were quiet for a moment or two, listening to the soft rustle of the evergreen trees. Lighter oak than Mirkwood, though musty and shabby. An ancient time these trees were and they found themselves in peace.

"Treebeard," Gandalf said simply and he adjusted Archir slightly before a Man-like, yet Troll-like, figure stepped in front of them. Fourteen feet high and very sturdy he stood, a tall head and small neck. Treebeard was with brown smooth skin and large seven-toed feet. He was indeed his name, for on his long face was a sweeping Grey beard, so bushy and twiggy at the roots, thinning as it narrowed down. Archir could not stop the giggle that escaped his seemingly innocent and childish lips. The beard was a funny and enticing thing to him, for they always seem to be upon the eldest. The Ent smiled brightly when he saw the elderly wizard, though he looked curiously at the child.

"Fangorn, I have come alive once more and I seek your help to let my student and I shelter here until I meet up with my company once more," Gandalf said pleasantly.

"A child of Istari heritage? Very curious that is. Yes, shelter as much as one pleases here, for you are very welcomed among the land of these trees, White Wizard Gandalf," Treebeard responded, giving way that he knew that the man was Gandalf and yet not at the same time. Gandalf hummed for a second before placing Archir finally on his own two feet, which were clad in his black shoes. Archir looked around his surroundings curiously, drawing a chuckle from Treebeard who told them he would warn them of any travelers crossing path and that Archir was very much safe in the trees home.

"So littlun, tell me the woes and the pros of your adventure since my demise," Gandalf finally spoke, drawing Archir near him. The little boy nodded and leaned against a still tree.

"Aragorn seemed... I dunno, distant, after you... were gone." Archir began slowly, "then we reached Lothlurien and met with Celeborn and Galadriel who promised to help us... them prepare for their second travel. Aragorn... He, well, he told me the very last moment that I was remaining behind and by the time I could gather myself, he had left before my goodbye could be given. I was with Haldir and some others elves since then and you found me there of course. The elves were very nice to me, yet they seek for the youth that I held more than my true nature. They crafted me much too toddler items and clothes and gave little of weapons and practice to help prepare me. So I often had sneaked from that childish bassinet and practiced my magic that you showed me. I did sprain my ankle from a little mishap the day before we left but, nothing too bad sir," Archir continued and was quick to reassure. Nevertheless, Gandalf picked him up and placed him on a stump, lifting the cloak and trouser leg to see a swollen ankle.

"Yet you walk on the pressure of pain, littlun," Gandalf murmured and withdrew his staff, tapping the injury lightly and the swell shrunk down and Archir felt pain ebb away slowly. He sighed, content, and allowed the elderly wizard to lightly wrap it.

"Though my magic has healed the wound, I suggest you stay off it. I can not fathom how your small body could walk on such an injury. Minor or man," Gandalf said with a frown, looking at his charge with a raised eyebrow. Archir blushed and nodded, getting picked up by Gandalf and rested on the old man's lap, arms snaked around his waist.

"I have heard much of your pre-life. One so young even in 17, yet you've seen more than a man of 50." Gandalf said lightly, combing a hand through the child's hair. Archir shrugged and scooted closer to the man.

"My dear Gandalf, you have two lone little mysterious creatures out in my forest coming your way, though they do not sound such an orc." Treebeard said hours later. Gandalf's eyes lit up as Treebeard relayed the conversation.

"I daresay, take them with you somewhere safe, for they do not need to dwell near me and my charge for now. I will see them again but, for now, I ask that you protect my friends. They are part of the company that I am to see again, though two hobbits alone frightens me." Gandalf murmured the last part and he lifted Archir up onto Shadowfax's back and the horse led itself to rest against a tree. Pip and Merry! How he missed those two hobbits, Archir mused. They always knew how to keep him entertained, like the Weasley Twins, with their jolly nature and optimistic pranks. In Lothlurien under the care of the elves, they had not much experience with a wizard child (for who could? He was one of a kind) and therefore the toddler had tired of the elven-children toys and the never ending seeking nurture of his caretakers. He wasn't a small incapable child! Archir leaned against Shadowfax. Had Archir not been here, Gandalf would have sent the lordly horse to roam, but the horse was attached to Archir like a mother hen to a chick. Treebeard disappeared from site and Gandalf pulled the hood of his cloak over his eyes and smiled at Archir who could not halt the giggle that emitted from his lips.

"It is fine to laugh, littlun," Gandalf laughed.

"Littlun?" Archir asked curiously after he thought of it.

"I learned of the word in a few places and it simply is a new diction for little one of course," Gandalf chuckled and leaned against the same tree that his companions were by.

"Tell me Archir... How much are you in controlling your magic?" Gandalf asked distractedly. Archir bit his cheek.

"Not very well. I have the pattern of it down, just not the strength to master more of my magic. I have to be older and bigger to be able to," Archir sighed and he looked up at the sky and traced the clouds with his emerald eyes. Gandalf moved towards him and placed a hand on the child's head, for Shadowfax had opted to lay on the ground. Archir looked into the elderly wizard's eyes, finding compassion and understanding.

"I may have never been as young as you are now, or even as 17 but, I understand your feeling of being powerless and wanting to improve. It will be awhile of patience and trying, Archir," Gandalf humbly told him.

"You were created by Valar, right?" Archir asked.

"Yes, unlike you, I was never born an infant and grown to be who I am now. I remember being possibly a very young man of tweens, and starting from there. Now I believe you need sleep for tomorrow we will meet with the rest of our company if I am correct." Gandalf said with a nod. He unpacked the travel bags of both and Shadowfax adjusted slightly to where Archir could lay fully against him and not roll off his back. Gandalf put the phoenix bird on the back and Archir laid his head on the stuffed animal and Gandalf pulled the blanket from Archir's pack over the little boy.

"I feel useless Gandalf, and a burden, for always resting. Always needing someone," Archir sighed, nestling under the covers as Gandalf placed a hand on his cheek, rubbing it with his thumb.

"A burden is someone who does not give aid. You, have a strength and light that can only be lit by you. Such a torch of flames you are, littlun. When your magic grows, you will see this. Aragorn had no need to abandon you, for you have powers that will require its maximum to help revive many lives. You are no burden, Archir the Emerald. Neither as a wizard child, or as Harry from your old world." Gandalf said quietly. Archir closed his eyes.

"I feel... betrayed and hurt by Aragorn. He didn't want me so he left me. He left the shores before I could give Goodbye." Archir murmured sleepily.

"He did it because he loves you very much Archir. I have noticed how each of the Company has sent affectionate displays toward you. They all love you and wish to protect you. In their eyes, you are a very small child with need of mothering." Gandalf responded. Archir nodded slightly to show he understood and he sleepily whispered.

"Goodnight Alf." Archir yawned as he drifted asleep.

"Goodnight Littlun." Gandalf said as he leaned forward and brushed his lips against the sleeping child's forehead. He then rested himself comfortably and watched with unopened eyelids, as he slept through most of the night until he awoke early and he set out to making a light meal for both him and his student. He prepared berries and a bit of the lembas bread by the time Archir awoke and sleepily slid off Shadowfax's back (who had slept happily the whole time) as Gandalf chuckled.

"Eat now, for I feel that our companions are very near." Gandalf said as he replaced their belongings in their bags. Archir nibbled on the bread as Gandalf adjusted Archir's emerald robes on the toddler and perched him on his hip as Shadowfax ran off to do what he pleased. Gandalf purposely covered the both of their robes with a gray (given to them by the elves for this purpose), to better blend them in. Gandalf walked deeper into the forest, Archir leaning on the Istari's shoulder as he traveled. Soon, he heard voices.

"But we did not wish to come to Fangorn!" A voice very much like a dwarf sounded. Archir perked up at the tone.

"Yet here we are-and nicely caught in the net," An elfish voice replied before his tone sounded surprised, "Look!"

"Look at what?" The dwarf, who Archir could now spy was Gimli, asked stupidly.

"There in the trees."

"Where? I have not elf-eyes." Gimli sounded annoyed and the comment drew a giggle from Archir's lips. The three froze, perhaps able to hear them.

"Hush! Speak more softly! Look right there in the wood, back in the way that we have just come. It is he!" Legolas said irritably.

"Unless I was mistaken, that he just giggled like a little child," Aragorn said with a quirked eyebrow.

"There is an old man though, in dirty gray robes!" Gimli replied. They poised to strike and watched warily as he came near. The old man had a child perched on his hip, which drew hesistation from the three fighters at attacking. The two were covered by their hoods and the old man had on a wide-brimmed hat and a gray beard. He looked at them and broke their silence with his soft voice.

"Well met indeed, my friends. I wish to speak to you. Will you come down or shall I come up?" Gandalf asked, for they were perched higher than the two of them. Archir could hear them once again and Gandalf slid the little boy off his hip. The sight of the tiny boy was what made them reluctantly ski down and meet with the two. Archir couldn't stop giggling as he saw Aragorn, Gimli, and Legolas in the elvish fashion. The large axe with Gimli and the bow with Legolas.

"A child alone with you, sir?" Aragorn asked, surprised. He probably was remembering how he had abandoned him, Archir mused to himself.

"Yes, for he comes with me where I must go. What may you be doing, Master Elf, Master Dwarf, and a Man?" Gandalf asked in amusement.

"Might we know your name, and we have an errand that can not wait," Aragorn said irritably.

"So impolitely must you state, so I will give it to you. I surely thought you would have guessed it already. As for your errand, it is not as urgent as you think for your two hobbit friends are find. Do not stare at me as if you've never known what a hobbit is. They climbed up here the day before and met someone who brought them to safety. Let us sit down and be more at ease." Gandalf said and Archir hid behind Gandalf as the man sat and his white robes were revealed. Gimli shot forward and Archir sprang his hand out and pushed the dwarf back, instinct taking over. Gandalf lit Aragorn's sword with sudden fire and it was Legolas who cried out.

"Mithrandir!" He yelped.

"Well met, I say to you again. Legolas!" Gandalf said. The three adults stood there and stared before Gandalf pulled back Archir's hood to reveal the little one's face.

"Archir!" Gimli said with surprise. Aragorn bit his cheek as he saw the small boy in front of him. Archir dared not look the man in the eye, still hurt from the man's action.

"Gandalf and Archir!" Aragorn said, gazing at the two. Gandalf's hair was white as snow in sunshine, gleaming white was his robes (as Archir's were sparkling with the green); eyes under his deep brows were shining piercingly bright with power in his hand. The Company fighters were mixed with wonder, joy, and fear as they stood.

"Gandalf, yes that was my name." Gandalf chuckled, "Get up, my good Gimli! No blame to you, and no harm done to either wizard. Indeed my friends, none of you have any weapon that could dare hurt me or Archir. Be merry! We meet again. At the turn of the tide, the great storm coming though the tide has now turned.

"Gandalf! But you are all in white and not gray!" Gimli replied, laughing as Gandalf had placed a hand on his head.

"Indeed I am Saruman, though one might almost say that I am what he should have been. But come now and entertain me. Tell me of yourselves!" Gandalf said as he picked Archir back up and settled down, putting the boy on his lap. Legolas took the time to snatch Archir from the wizard's lap and cuddled the little boy he had missed.

"I've missed you young one. I am sorry we left," Legolas apologized and Archir had it in his heart to forgive him, but not trust any of the three.

"I missed you all... but I fear I can not trust you not to replay this to hurt me," Archir said looking down. Gandalf drew Archir back into his lap and held him dearly.

"I am sorry that I did this Archir, I terribly am." Aragorn said with pleading eyes. Archir refused to meet his eyes and burried his face into Gandalf's cloak. Aragorn sighed and began to tell Gandalf of their adventure up until they remet at last. Gandalf revealed to them of taking Archir from the elves and from his capture. Archir did not move the whole time and Gandalf adjusted the toddler from time to time until it the wizard stood up with Archir laying in his arms.

"Come Aragorn son of Arathorn. Do not regret your choice in the valley of the Emyn Muil, not cill it vain pursuit for you chose amid doubts the path that seemed right. The quest of your companions now lay over and in its place is the journey to Edoras and to seek out Thjoden in his hall. There is war in Rohan." Gandalf said and he relayed the message to his companions from Galadriel (before he had stolen her charge of course) and called out for three horses, which Shadowfax took lead with Hasufel and Arod. Legolas was awed by Shadowfax, chief of Mearas. Gandalf placed his charge on the horse and climbed up as well.

"We go at once to Meduself, the hall of his master, Thjoden." Gandalf said as Aragorn rode Hasufel and Legolas and Gimli rode Arod. They set out on their horses and Archir leaned against Gandalf, every now and then peaking behind him to see Aragorn who caught his eye and looked at him pleadingly. Archir looked back to the front, missing Aragorn's regretful look.

For now, half of the company had been reunited.

**Author's Note: I'm a total caffine freak. I'll finally admit it. So if you're someone from my school, then THERE I admit defeat. Anyways... This was fun to write. I was wondering what to do with Gandalf until he met them. I thought perhaps he had taken shelter there until he remet with some of the company. He's protective of Archir... in a totally Gandalf way. Archir finally starts showing a more powerful side of him in this chapter and Aragorn has gotten what he deserved in Archir's opinion. Do you think Archir will ever stop thinking himself a burden now? Will Aragorn know this is what Archir thinks? Only one way to find out and that's to review. I know an eagle was the one to tell Gandalf of Treebeard taking them but... all well. The eagle was hiding from me! **


	10. Emotional Minds

**Ring Child**

**by Kiamii**

**Chapter Ten "Emotional Minds"**

They rode through sunset, slow dusk, and gathering night as they followed Gandalf. At last they dismounted; Legolas and Gimli slept and Aragorn lay flat, stretched upon his back, yet Gandalf stood, leaning on his staff while Archir would occasionally nap during the travel and talk with Gandalf during that rest. All was silent and under the cold moon, they went on as swift as by the light of day.

Hours passed and they had little rest as they traveled for miles. Archir slept in Gandalf's firm grasp on Shadowfax, for while he had great power, he was still but a lad. Aragorn noted the sleeping child and sighed, still depressed by Archir's forgiving, yet untrusting nature. The little boy now stayed by Gandalf's side constantly. Suddenly Shadowfax stood still and Gandalf pointed amongst his companion's neighing. Now before them stood the mountains of the South.

They stopped by a stream, Archir awakening, and Archir recalled a song of a forgotten poet long ago in Rohan. Gandalf laughed at his young student's queered face as he yawned and they began to move on, pass the silent mounds. At last they came to the gates of Edoras and the Golden Hall of Meduseld. The guards met up with them and asked if friend or foe in their language. Archir was the one who replied back curiously.

"Why are you asking us in another language?" Archir couldn't stop himself from asking as Gandalf clutched him to his chest.

"We are not to let foe in, only those of our kind though I am guessing you are friend little one." The guard said with a quirked eyebrow at the small boy. Gandalf found himself lucky that the emerald green robes were covered by the Grey cloak, as was his white ones.

"We are no phantoms of Saruman's craft. Nor do your eyes cheat you. For indeed these are your own horses that we ride, as you knew well as you asked, I guess. But seldom does thief ride home to the stable! Here with as are Hasufel and Arod, that Éomer, the Third Mashal of the Mark, lent to us, only two days ago and we bring them back as we had promised. Has Éomer not come back and given warning of our coming?" Aragorn stated after the guard made a light comment about their horses.

A troubled look crossed the man's eyes as he responded, "Of Jomer I have naught to tell. If what you tell me is honesty and no deceiving, then doubtless Théoden will have heard of it. It is but two nights ago that Wormtongue came to us and said that by Théoden's word that no stranger shall go pass these gates."

"Wormtongue?" Gandalf asked, straightening and noticing as Archir as well stiffened at such an odd name, "Say no more! My errand belongs naught to Wormtongue, but to the Lord of the Mark for I am in haste."

The Guard asked for their names and instead of mentioning his full title, Gandalf gave the guard's only Archir's first name. So there they were introduced as Gandalf, Shadowfax that Great, Aragorn son of Arathron and heir of Kings, Legolas the Elf, Gimli the Dwarf, and young Archir. The guard found it odd that no given title was matched with the little boy's name but, let it be and reported this to the king. He came back moments later and led them in. The horses remained behind as Gandalf carried Archir down a broad path. They met up with a guard who asked for their weapons.

"The child in my arms is surely too young to even hold a weapon proper," Gandalf huffed though Archir recognized the amusement in his tone. They did not make Archir give up his pack or his "toy stick" as they put it and they allowed Gandal's staff (which he used as a walking stick though the guards were too idle to note that he was carrying a child on his hip and using a walking stick as well...) So the others were the ones to give up their weapons, though Aragorn had a bit of a fit. Finally, they entered through the hall. They reached an old man that Archir found odd. He was dwarf-like in the fact that he was hunched over. His white hair was thick and long, braided beneath a thin golden circle that was upon his brow. A white diamond lay on his forehead and Archir lightly fingered his lightning bolt scar, that he had forgotten lay on his own head. Not many had noticed it in this world for his hair had grown to his shoulders, now lightly tied back, and his bangs covered it well. Gandalf placed Archir on his feet and the little boy withdrew his staff which went unnoticed by the guards.

"Hail, Théoden son of Thengel! I have returned. For behold! A storm comes, and now all friends should gather together, lest each singly be destroyed of course." Gandalf said lightly. Slowly the man rose from his throne and Archir noted how tall the man really was.

"You come here for welcome but truth to tell your welcome is doubtful here, though I greet you. Troubles follow you like crows and with you come evils worse than before, yet with you is a child that I can not comprehend the little one's reasoning for joining your ways. Why should I welcome you, Gandalf Stormcrow? Tell me that." He said slowly. He resat on his chair, looking directly at the small boy who stood next to Gandalf.

"You speak justly, lord," A man said to the king, licking his lips. Archir made a face, for he looked very much rat-like and disturbing. He must have been Wormtongue, and the words next proved his musings. The man sounded so much like Wormtail and his unkind tone made Archir want to blast the wretched mess out of this hall, for he talked as if possessing the man. Perhaps he was... Or perhaps... Saruman was.

"You are held wise, Wormtongue and are doubtless a great support of your master," Gandalf said softly and Wormtail spoke back to him. Archir did not feel to listen as the man accused the guards of being traitors for not having taken the old man's staff. Archir puffed his cheeks in irritation. This man was annoying and he wreaked of a foul stench.

"You smell," Archir couldn't help but say, wrinkling his nose. The hall went quiet and Archir blushed as he realized he had said that out loud. Wormtongue sneered at Archir, though the guards all smiled at the innocence the boy provoked even though he insulted the man. Even more amusing was that Archir had said this right after Wormtongue had insulted his companions who were all clad in something Grey.

"Insolent boy needs to know his manners," Wormtongue said in a haughty tone that did not fit the ugly man.

"Come now, he is but a lad out of his infancy stages. All children his age are still learning. Though I do say this now. The courtesy of your hall is somewhat lessened of late, Théoden son of Thengel. Has not the messenger from your gate reported the names of my companions? Seldom has any lord of Rohan received such guests. Weapons they had laid at your doors that are worth more than many a mortal man, even the greatests. Grey is their garment, for Elves had clad them and thus they have passed through the shadows of great perils to your hall." Gandalf spoke. Wormtongue could not hold his speak and called such a speech the webs of deceit. This stirred something in Gimli and the man was about to move when Gandalf lay a hand on his shoulder and softly sang. Archir noticed that he changed, casting away his tattered cloak to reveal his robes. Wormtongue said something before Archir could not take the filthy man and he lifted his staff and brought it down which seemed to force Wormtongue away from the old king. The hall was silent and Archir's small eyes narrowed, though he was pleased to note that he cast away such an unpleasant traitor.

"Now Théoden son of Thengel, will you hearken to me? Do you ask for help?" Gandalf said and the possession seemed to pass from his eyes, for he now sat up with a younger appeal. Éowyn rushed to his side and the old king smiled at her with the heavenly missed emotion she hadn't seen since Wormtongue came near. The group seemed to relax and Gandalf led them to the outside of on the porch upon the top of the high terrace where all could be seen.

"It is not so dark here," Théoden stated.

"No," Gandalf said as he lifted Archir up into his arms once more, "Nor does age lie so heavily on your shoulders as some would have you think. Cast aside your prop!" Away from the king's hand was sent the black staff and the old king was blue-eyed and tall as he once was. Archir smiled at the man who looked down at Archir and ruffled the little one's black hair.

"So small in age you carry a toddler, yet he holds a power stronger than I possibly." Théoden said lightly.

"Archir the Emerald is one of a kind. So young he is, yet more advantage than burden as I tell him. He is an Istari of his own and my charge," Gandalf said to the man after they had talked over Wormtongue. Archir felt touched and he rested his head against the wizard's shoulder, content to lay there. While some would find his actions childish, Archir found warmth in being near Gandalf.

"Where is my son, Gandalf my friend?" Théoden asked finally.

"I was told that he survived. He was banished from Rohan by Wormtongue but, now he returns to you. Théodred is a brave man who survived what most could not," Gandalf said and Théoden smiled brightly, knowing that his son would return to him. Gandalf set Archir on his feet as Théoden discussed something with the elderly wizard and Archir went off to do what he wished. He drew out his staff once more and clutched his stuffed phoenix to his chest as he walked. Some children spotted the lone boy walking and the mesmerizing staff he clutched in one hand, the mystifying stilled creature in his other. Legolas was sharpening his arrows as Gimli was moving around with his axe. Aragorn was in conversation with someone and it was then that Archir noted the absence of Boromir, Frodo, and Sam. Gandalf had told him the two hobbits probably left for Mordor. That left Boromir... The memories from the mirror came to Archir's mind. He had looked into the mirror, against Galadriel's want and he had seen things that had him awakening in nightmare some nights. Gandalf did not know Archir had looked in the mirror. Only Lady Galadriel had.

_He saw Hermione and Ron out in a meadow and Ron knelt down on one knee, holding out a ring to Hermione Granger. The words yes could be made from her mouth before she soundly kissed him. They were engaged and in love, something Harry knew since their fourth year. He saw his former two best friends at a graveyard and Harry realized with a pang of his heart that it was his own, his name Harry James Potter was on it and below was "Beloved Man, Savior of All, and Great Friend." Along with the wretched Boy-Who-Lived title. Flowers of all sorts were gardening the grave and Harry frowned._

_Another memory sparked up and Archir had seen Boromir struck down by the arrows, the hobbits snatched away. He could see Aragorn falling from a cliff. Before he could stop it so, a burning eye pierced his mind and he felt like he was being dragged into it, burning. _

"Archir?" A voice snapped him out of it. Archir looked up to see the man from earlier. Éomer was his name. Archir inclined his head, "You worried me for a second there lad, gazing into something unseen. Tell me, why are you alone as such?" Éomer knelt down next to the child.

"Gandalf needed to speak to the king and I decided to walk around," Archir answered. He looked at the man with a shy smile, finding the king's nephew friendly and welcoming. Éomer placed his hands under Archir's arms and lifted him up, placing him on his hip. Archir stiffened, then relaxed. Éomer led him down the path, explaining things of the land to the 3-year-old wizard. Archir said nothing, simply gazing around with wondrous eyes. His eyes caught Legolas and Gimli now arguing about who knows what, though it perked Archir's interest and he wriggled in Éomer's arms until the man let him down and Archir ran over to the two in time to hear who had killed more orcs. The argument was over something very strange indeed, Archir mused. He sneaked up behind Legolas and only Gimli noticed, though he was now smirking at the elf.

"You, my dear elf, are blind. You are about to be attacked in less than a second," Gimli said gleefully.

"Wha-" Legolas was cut off as Archir launched his small body at the pair of legs and landed at them with a thump. Legolas swung around and saw Archir, scooping him up into his arms.

"You are a strange child," Legolas laughed and he perched Archir at his hip. The toddler clutched the shirt of the elf and leaned his head on his shoulder, content to lay there. He had forgiven them after all, he just didn't fully trust them not to hand him over to the next elven civilization should Gandalf disappear. Legolas carried him back to the area where Gandalf and Théoden were standing as who could only be Théodred made his way into Rohan. Archir smiled happily as he spotted them all.

"You are a powerful child," Legolas commented, recalling how he had pushed away Gimli earlier and later on Wormtongue.

"I am a Wizard child," Archir said lightly as he smiled at the reunion of father and son. Gandalf caught his eye and Archir nodded slightly. He knew what was to come next. They would have no other option but to join king Théoden, who wanted to ride into the West. Legolas took him to his mentor and Gandalf whistled for Shadowfax who came back to them (having went to graze about) and allowed Gandalf to mount with the child.

"Behold the White Rider!" All chanted.

"Behold the fated Wizards!" One shouted and Archir blushed lightly at the comment. Other's repeated the statement.

"Our King and the Light Wizards!" They finally decided upon, "For Eorlingas!" The trumpets sounded and the horses reared. Théodred was on a horse next to his father, the King having decided to have Éowyn stay behind. They took off and Archir watched the city of Rohan soon disappear from his view, riding on the lordly horse as they sailed off. Archir was content to ride, feeling the wind hit his small face.

**Author's Note: Notice that we have moved on to following Book 2 to all you LOTR fans. I didn't mention Boromir last chapter simply because... you guys already knew he was dead from the book themselves and if I had changed that fate, then I would have mentioned it. So blah, there! Had more caffine. I really have to stop drinking this stuff. All well. It doesn't effect how I'm writing the story, just my Author's note I guess. Anyways, Archir is going to have a hard time trusting Aragorn but, at least the poor guy's suffering ended. I decided to be nice and let the king's son live. Hehe. Wormtongue reminded me sooo much of Wormtail that I couldn't resist and hey, Archir needed a flaw in there. It was funny to imagine the reactions. By the way, sorry for any errors in names. I have a very messed up copy of Lord of the Rings, I can tell by how they spelled Éomer as Jomer. Funny... Anyhow, Archir is going to slowly build trust back up with the fellowship. Question is, will they keep it?**


	11. War Cries

**Ring Child**

**by Kiamii**

**Chapter Eleven "War Cries"**

Some say that the stars led one to their destiny. Such as Romeo and Juliet; two star-cross lovers fated to evoke death on its doorstep. Many did not want a fate chosen for them, yet everyone did. Archir the Emerald, once christened by the name of Harry James Potter, looked up at the sky that was filled with stars, twinkling a neon yellow in the blackened night. Back at home, not much could be seen because he could never sit upon the grass and look up at the sky like he wanted to at home. He was either in the cupboard or at Hogwarts. Neither were exactly good conditions to look at the sky.

"Much to think for one so young," Éomer's voice whispered into his ear. Archir looked up to see Éomer behind him, smiling down at him. The man was just slightly taller than Aragorn, making him enormous compared to young Archir. He had ignighted auburn eyes and dark brown hair, a friendly smile quirked upon his lips. He was tanned and sharp-featured with a soft tone. He looked similar to his sister Éowyn, Archir could see the familiar looking appearance they held.

"I wish I could trust Aragorn again," Archir sighed and he looked back down at the ground. He felt Éomer sigh just as well and sit on the ground next to him, placing a hand on the messy raven hair on Archir's head. He had untied it for today, wanting to have the wind breeze by it. Therefore the shoulder-lengthened black hair blew everywhere and anywhere, making it a mess.

"Why is his trust from you lost, Arch?" Éomer asked in puzzlement, having not heard of the events.

"When Gandalf supposedly... died, Aragorn left me in Lorien with Lady Galadriel and Lord Celeborn. They were nice and overcoddling but, I wanted to stay with the company. I guess I don't deserve any of this after all," Archir murmured, feeling that cold and belittled feeling from the Dursleys, those glares from the student of Hogwarts in 5th year, and the hard betrayal from friends.

"Any of what?" Éomer asked, still surprised by the fact that Aragorn had left Archir with the elves immediately after Gandalf's 'death'. While he knew that it was wise to leave a toddler away from a battle, Archir was not just any child. Also, leaving a child alone just after the death of their mentor was a low blow. Éomer had heard of the students becoming withdrawn after being abandoned by their remaining company if they were left behind purposely and at a young age.

"Love, family. I don't deserve to have anyone. A burden and a trouble to have around is all I am." Archir began quietly. Éomer immediately jumped up in rage, causing Archir to look up in fear and cover his head with his arms. Éomer realized what just happened and paled before calming down. Who dared hurt a babe this young!

"Do not think yourself a burden, child! You are anything but that! You have so much power in you, so much hope you give to many." Éomer said, kneeling down and putting his hands on Archir's shoulders. He noted the stiffening of Archir's shoulders, wondering why he had not noticed before when he had picked the boy up.

"I'm just a freak though, someone you can't love." Archir said stubbornly. Éomer looked as if he had been slapped and he drew Archir into a tight embrace, holding the boy to his chest and rubbing circles into Archir's small back like he had down when his sister was younger.

"You are no such thing!" Éomer argued. Archir looked doubtful and Éomer sighed before picking Archir up and carrying him back towards the group, where Aragorn and them relaxed. Archir wrapped his arms around his neck and rested his head on his shoulder, his legs dangling. Éomer smiled at the little boy before maneuvering him into his arms and sitting Archir down at the campfire where Legolas and the others were. Gandalf had left to do whatever he needed and had evoked a promise from the group not to abandon Archir. Before he left, he had given Archir one large hug and whispered comforting words to him, promising to continue their training when they next saw each other. For the meantime, Archir trusted them somewhat.

"How are you feeling, young one?" Legolas asked hesitantly. Archir looked at his feet and said in a small voice that he was fine. Legolas smiled that at least the little boy had answered him instead of avoiding him. Éomer sat down next to Archir and peered curiously at Gimli who glared at him. Éomer laughed at the antic and settled down against the tree. A howl in the distance echoed for awhile when suddenly, Archir felt a twinge of pain in his forehead all of a sudden and his eyes shot open, having been closed in a small contentment. He hadn't felt _that_ since the night he took from Gringotts with Hermione and Ron...

Hermione... Ron... He missed them dearly and a thought from the mirror struck his mind again. There had been other images from the mirror that he had seen, as well as some dreams he had been having lately. Of his friends. A little over a day ago his dream consisted of seeing a four-year-old Teddy asking Hermione and Ron if his godfather, mummy, and daddy would ever see him again. The thought caused Harry's heart to stop during that dream. He wished more than ever to see his godson, yet here he was in an entirely different world, younger than his godson now. A tear trickled down his small and lightly red-tinted cheeks as he thought about them all. Aragorn, who was sitting across from Archir, frowned lightly at seeing the tears on the face of the young wizard.

"You'll join me on a small walk, will you not?" Aragorn asked with a hint of worry. Archir's emerald green eyes turned to the man and he couldn't help but nod to him and he stood up, rubbing his salty moistened eyes on his robe. He hesitated before walking over to Aragorn and letting the man take his hand into his own larger one. Archir felt too emotional to realize he was still mad at this man. Aragorn led the little boy a little way from the others before kneeling down and taking his hands to cup the toddler's face. Aragorn painfully ignored the small flinch from this action.

"I am truly sorry for having left you in Lorien, Archir. I had only wished to do so to protect you." Aragorn said softly.

"You left me, condemned to possibly never seeing you all ever again was what brought my anger, sir." Archir admitted, settling somewhat to allow the touch. Aragorn's hand felt both slightly rough and cool, contrast to his very smooth babyish cheeks and warm face. Archir felt himself leaning in to the touch.

"You are not one to usually call me sir," Aragorn noted with a form, "will I ever have you back with me?" Archir's eyes met with Aragorn and the man could see the pain he had put his young charge through. Something seemed to snap in the little boy at that moment.

"You already have," Archir whispered as he wiped his wet eyes.

"Yet I feel we are distances apart, though I see you and touch you with my own eyes and hands at this moment," Aragorn told him as he stopped the little one's hands, using his own thumb to gently wipe the boy's eyes until they dried better.

"I had a dream since being in Lorien... I miss a few people who I met before joining the journey," Archir said with reluctance.

"They probably miss you so as well and one day you'll be reunited with them again little one, I'm sorry for adding weight to your heavy heart," Aragorn replied.

"I missed you Aragorn," Archir said, emerald jades shining in the near dark.

"I missed you as well child. I wished to protect you because I love you," Aragorn said and Archir's eyes went wide with wonder. The three words at the end had never been uttered to him with the exception of his love, Ginny. He probably heard it as a baby with his parents and godfather, but his memory did not go that far back. Archir felt himself tear up and he began to cry, falling into the man's arms and purely bawling. He clenched the top of the man's shirt and felt arms snake around him, pulling him to Aragorn's chest and hands rubbed his back soothingly.

"Shh little one, I'm here." Aragorn whispered in comfort. Archir rubbed his face into the side of the man's neck and shuddered before he finally stopped weeping.

"I love you too," Archir whispered back, unable to see the light in Aragorn's eyes shining. Archir could not keep track of how long they were there before Aragorn brought him back over to the camp and laid him on the makeshift cot, tucking the covers around him.

"Goodnight Archir," Aragorn whispered. Archir's eyelids fluttered close as he sleepily let himself drift off.

"Night `ragon," Archir yawned. Aragorn chuckled at his name sounding so much like dragon when Archir said it, and he kissed the little boy on the forehead before going to chat with Legolas and Gimli, feeling lighthearted even more. At night, Archir had a different dream this time. One of when he was five. Time had shown that he was Harry Potter this moment, called by boy or freak though he was. Vernon Dursley was towering over him in a mass of blubbery fury, Archir could see in this dream and he shuddered heavily. Never would those glaring icy eyes leave his innocence, more like continue to cover it with a pure black anger and violence. Then again, he would return to that place never again. That was good...

The morning daze beamed into Archir's eyes and the little boy's eyelids fluttered before unclosing them to reveal his bright emerald green eyes. He blinked sleepily, rubbing his eyes to rid of the morning blur. When that was cared for, Archir easily slid out of the covers and stood up, stretching and looking around the makeshift campsite as men were packing. Archir cocked his head to the side in wonderment as he thought of the moment he had looked around in Rohan, spying children his physical age being in the arms of their parents. These were men who would give their lives for their children and Archir wondered how many would return to hug their little girl or rough house with their son once more. He shook his head and walked towards Aragorn who was chatting with Gimli. Just wistful thinking. That was all that had been for him anyways.

"Good morning child," Aragorn greeted as he spotted the boy, kneeling down to be at Archir's height.

"`Morning," Archir said with a spark of curiosity. Aragorn laughed and lifted the boy onto his hip, hugging him to his chest. Archir leaned against him as he was carried towards the head of the campsite, everyone ready to move once again. Gandalf would meet them in Helm's Deep, as he said. Feeling slightly groggy, Archir closed his eyes as Aragorn settled him atop a horse and climbed up behind him, steadying the toddler easily. They began to journey on and Archir sighed, leaning off to the side to peep at the ground as they rode gently and steadily. He let out a gasp of fright as the ground was coming closer to him and he squeezed his eyes shut only to feel arms wrapped around him. He peeked up to see Legolas' worried look.

"Easy there youngling," Legolas said with concern as he hoisted the child back up onto Aragorn's horse, the man looking relieved that Legolas had caught Archir before he had fallen.

"Thanks `las" Archir said pleasantly, easily showing that he was back to the little boy that he had been before the whole Moria deal. Legolas smiled brightly and rode over to Gimli, probably to pull him in another argument. Aragorn chuckled at the elf's nickname and ruffled the toddler's hair in amusement. Of course, Archir squeaked and protested his annoyance at having his long hair, neatly tied back, ruffled and displaced. He undid his tie and shook his hair around. Aragorn found the boy the smaller and more innocent version of a hero, a warrior. He was gaining a little more of a child's face, losing only a little of his baby fat. The boy's green eyes still pierced the very core. Aragorn smiled fondly at the Istari, shaking his head in amusement as Archir pouted. Even more so now was the return of such a display that was hardly seen before, Aragorn thought as he remembered how cold the child had been, ignoring Aragorn as best as one could. Aragorn sighed, glad to be back in a position to care for the little boy.

When Gandalf had at first left them to travel ahead, Archir refused to stay in Aragorn's presence whatsoever, though he slowly began to allow the man to come with in a few feet. The paranoia of the child would have been rather amusing, if not frustrating.

They managed to reach Helm's Deep fairly later on and found many of the Rohan folk slain along their passing. Aragorn's breath halted as he knew what was about to come. Far down in the valley scattered fires still burned. The hosts of Isengard were advancing in silence now. Their torches seen winding up the comb in many lines. Fierce battle-cries of men broke out. The battle of Helm's Deep had begun and Aragorn could only think of one thing; Archir was going to be forced into this battle one way or another.

**Author's Note: Someone claims my story was the most OC-centered ever in fanfiction. LIAR! Okay, this story isn't THAT OC-centered. Honestly, Archir is still Harry. Duh. He's just in the body of a child, looks exactly like he did as Harry (only smaller) and has a childish tendancy. His magic changed to fit in with Gandalf only because he is an Istari Child (I get to make up how special that is so don't say I can't do this and that you mean people) and he's growing. Even as a teenager he is a child to them all. So there. Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah is all I hear from some people. Again; Flamers + My grouchiness = Omeletts! Also, please review to tell me what you think. I actually do listen to everyone's review and add to the story with what you give. I like reviews anyways. It's fun to read. I did NOT make that many errors in the last chapter so no saying that Chapter Nine should be burned please. It hurts my feeling you know. Sorry I took so long to even write this chapter. I got caught sick and the stress of the final performance of my play was building up. That's out of the way and let's welcome Christmas time! I'm going to try my best to write the battle scene though. Yes! Archir is going to fight. Woot! Will he get hurt? **


	12. Jaded Healing

**Ring Child**

**by Kiamii**

**Chapter Twelve "Jaded Healing"**

The night had been a long one during this trying moment. Behind them in the caves of the Deep were three parts of the folk of Westfold, both old and young, children and women. Yet Archir the Emerald stood by Aragorn's side, analyzing their surroundings. Many of the riders had taken to guardian the Deeping Wall; a twenty feet high and four-men thick wide battlement.

Together, Gúthwine and Andúril fought together with a striking imposement that uplifted spirit in the men of Rohan. Archir had readied his staff, immediately poised to shoot out as many spells as he could from it. From the moment the fierce battle-cries took place, they knew it to be time.

The rearguard of the Westfolders spoke, "The enemy is at hand! We loosed every arrow that we had, and filled the Dike with Orcs. But it will not halt them long. Already scaling the bank at many points, thick as marching ants."

Midnight had aroused since then and Archir let only a small yawn escape him before brazen trumpets sounded and the enemy surged forward at last. They drove towards the gates and Archir raised his staff and yanked it down into a sweeping motion quickly for three times before he imagined and concentrated on arrows which immediately flew out of the staff and aimed at as many as ten of the Orcs before Archir had to stop, taking a breath, and starting again. He had to keep an intent on each of the orcs, like aiming a bow.

The at last an answer came: a storm of arrows met them back, and a hail of stones. They wavered, broke, and fled back; and then charged again, broke and charged again; and each time, they halted at a higher point. Éomer and Aragorn stood shoulder to shoulder near Archir before, tearing away from them, they clashed their two swords at once towards the many. Gúthwinl for the mark and Andúril for the Dúnedain as they rose and the Blade that was Broken shined once more. The assault on the gates redoubled and Archir's eyes widened only a second when an arrow from the enemy hit his ankle.

Used to pain, he continued to send arrows out of his staff, only revenge by making them flame. He cared not that he was becoming dizzy with pain, only that he fought to rid the Orcs away from the gates. Orcs and hillmen swarmed about its feet from end to end. Long ladders lifted up and many tried to get in. The men of Rohan grew weary, arrows were spent and ever shaft was shot. Their swords were notched, and their shields were riven. Three times, Andúril flamed in a desperate charge that drove the enemy from the wall that they were protecting. Aragorn did not want to think of the little boy nearby, in the midst of this battle. He did not want to possibly turn around and find the Istari hurt and wounded. He shook his head as he slayed an Orc, he'd find out when this was over.

Gimli's shout could be heard, "Ai-Oi! The Orcs are behind the wall! Come Legolas, come. There are just enough for the two of us. _Khazvd ai-mknu_!"

Away went elf and dwarf to deal with that problem, Archir mused drowsily as he spotted the many orcs below. His breath nearly stopped when he spotted something that made him want to scream. Orcs were coming in and fast below them. So many black bodies of the ugliest faces Archir had ever seen entered. They were worse than any creature he had ever faced as Harry and that's including Snakeface Voldemort. Instead, he said loudly to Gamling the Old.

"The Orcs are in the Deep," He said with his childish voice, hinted with pain and injury. Archir made sure his cloak covered the blood seeping from his leg as he made sure Gamling went to warn them.

"Helm! Helm! Forth Helmingas!" Gamling shouted and leaped off from the stairs with many men of Westfold at his back. Archir swayed and sat upon a rock where he could still see over the gate and watch the many orcs. Archir closed his watchful eyes momentarily which soon turned to minutes and possibly longer as he felt arms loop around him and Aragorn was holding him in his arms, a worried frown etched upon his face. Archir wondered dazedly why he hadn't reacted to being picked up in the midst of a battle. He decided he didn't care right now. He was just tired. Stupid child body.

"I'm alright, just a long night," Archir yawned as he shook himself awake. Aragorn shook his own head and placed the child on his hip, sneaking him away from the battle and down to where King Théoden was.

"My son is still fighting out there," Théoden grumbled, "while I stay here in a prison where I could have set a spear in rest, riding before my men upon the field instead. When dawn comes, I will bid men to sound Helm's horn, and I will ride forth. Will you ride with me then, son of Arathorn and you, student of Gandalf the White?"

"I will ride with you," Aragorn stated just as Archir nodded his head tiredly. Aragorn noticed red tinting the end of the robe and warily took note that the child was injured. Aragorn placed Archir on his feet and Théoden wrapped an arm around the very weary child while Aragorn went. With Théoden, Archir gathered men and soon they were able to sound the great horn of Helm right as Aragorn rejoined them, uninjured by soaring arrows aimed at him. The sound trembled many of the Orcs who tried to rid of it.

"Helm! Helm!" the Riders shouted. "Helm is arisen and comes back to war. Helm for Théoden King!" Which soon showed the king clad with a snowy white horse, golden shield, and long spear. At his right was Aragorn, Elendil's heir, holding the Istari Child Archir the Emerald on the horse, and behind rode the lords. They charged forth with a strength that neither orc nor man withstood. Their backs were to the swords and spears of the Riders, Archir the Emerald bundled against Aragorn's chest, trying to stay awake as the bleeding wound continued to bleed.

They rode from Helm's Gate to the great Dike where the company halted. Light grew bright around them. They gazed upon the Deeping-coomb. The land had changed and suddenly upon a ridge appeared a rider, clad in white, shining in the rising sun. Behind him were a thousand men on foot.

"Erkendbrand!" the Riders shouted.

"Behold the White Rider! Gandalf is come again!" Aragorn shouted with a grin.

"Mithrandir, Mithrandir! This is wizardry indeed!" Legolas said in surprise. Archir peeked out, suppressing a wince at the movement, and smiled shyly at his mentor and grandfatherly figure. The hosts of Isengard roared, swaying hither and thither. The horn sounded again from the high tower and the breach of the Dike charged the king's company. The White Rider was upon them, and the terror of his coming filled the enemy with a kind of madness that Archir had seen with the Dementors and the Patronus charm. The Orcs reeled and screamed before fleeing, wailing as they passed under a shadow that none ever came again. Archir grimaced before he smiled as he saw Gandalf riding down towards him. The wizard looked at his student with a benevolent smile before he took Archir from Aragorn's arms and held the child, frowning deeply at seeing the wound of an arrow on the boy's ankle. Aragorn also frowned as he spotted the injury.

"So you did fight littlun," Gandalf sighed as he rested Archir against him and easily unbuttoned the emerald cloak, removing it from the struggling boy. Now Archir was left in his elven-made clothes of a shirt and shorts. The wound was more visible without the wizardry cloak and Gandalf raised his staff over the injury, carefully stitching it up as best as he could. The group chose this time to take a rest and Archir lay in Gandalf's lap as the older Istari sat on the ground against a tree, talking with the king.

"My, something about you has changed little one," a voice came from near and Archir opened his closed eyes only for them to widen and he grinned brightly.

"Haldir!" Archir said as Haldir sat in front of Gandalf. Haldir the elf chuckled and lifted Archir up from the elderly wizard's lap, mindful of the wrapped ankle for Gandalf could not heal all of the injury. He settled Archir comfortably in his lap and hugged the toddler to his chest, putting his chin atop the boy's black hair.

"I've missed you child," Haldir said with a smile. Archir looked at Haldir's shirt.

"I've missed you too Haldir. You're injured!" Archir exclaimed, pointing at the injury on the elf's chest. Haldir smiled a little weakly and nodded. He did not move as his eyes traced little Archir's small finger trailing the wound that could clearly be seen. Haldir noticed the little wizard frowning before Archir took out his small staff and touched the wound, emitting a glow from the thing before Haldir watched in amazement as most of his wound was healed. Istari could heal only small injuries and not any deathly serious ones.

"I happened to see a certain little wizard near me and if I hadn't, I wouldn't have moved from a certain Orc's aim and I most likely would have been injured far more than this." Haldir said softly.

"The other elves came?" Archir asked after looking solemn. Haldir nodded and simply sat, content to cuddle his previous charge. Haldir caressed the long black hair that had been let out of the tie again, windblown.

"You've changed," Haldir noted, letting go of Archir slightly to take a look at him. His baby looks were still there, yet they were fading to become more child-like rather than a toddler. Archir was growing, subtly and almost unnoticed by them. Archir's cheeks were more flushed with pink and losing the baby fat they had that made them so pinchable (as Haldir had found this the fun way of course, to Archir's dismay as he had been blushing all day when Haldir had first done that to him when under the care of the elves). Those green eyes displayed a whirlwind of emotions now, instead of their blank look, and his hair was mussed up and messier than before. He perhaps was getting taller as well. Haldir experimented by standing Archir up without making Archir lean any weight on his injured ankle. Yes, he had grown about an inch or two now.

"You're getting older littlun, even if you can't see now, you are growing like a normal child would," Gandalf said with a smile tugging at his lips.

"Indeed, you're getting a little fatter around the middle, and heavier child," Haldir teased, chuckling as Archir glared at him for the comment and wriggled as he was placed back in Haldir's lap. Aragorn spotted the little boy and laughed as he saw Archir glaring at Haldir still.

"It'll make it harder for you to carry me everywhere then," Archir decided and said that with a poke of his tongue out at Haldir. The elf chuckled and shook his head.

"Wrong little one. No matter your age and size, a child you will be for quite a longer time and a child I can carry easily," Haldir laughed, placing a kiss on Archir's cheek. Archir huffed but, leaned against the elf in contentment. The fire that Gandalf started with his own staff cackled lightly as morning now dawned on them finally. Archir trapped a yawn threatening to escape him as he cuddled against Haldir, knowing this would be embarrassing if he had ever been Harry again. As Archir he could be childish, he mused, because the fact he was still a toddler, a babe to the eyes of many. The elves overcoddled him, men overprotected him, dwarves fought, and Gandalf taught him magic. Archir smiled as he felt Haldir rock him slightly, assuming that he was asleep for Archir had closed his eyes.

"Exhaustion grows on us all and especially a child his age," Gandalf said with amusement.

"I grow weary now that the battle finishes, also." Haldir said as he leaned against something, tucking Archir against his chest, the boy's head under his chin. Gandalf nodded in agreement as Aragorn, Legolas, and Gimli joined them. Haldir smiled and gave Archir to Legolas who took very great care not to stir the toddler. He cradled the child in his arms as Archir slept, his head leaning against Legolas' shoulder.

Tomorrow, they would ride to Isengard to see about Saruman. Archir dreamed of an eye that he swore he'd seen before. He whimpered in his sleep later that night, thrashing this time in the arms of Aragorn.

"Shhh child, I'm here. It's just a nightmare," Aragorn soothed as he held the little boy. Archir clung to this person, deeply asleep still yet the nightmare of the eye faded and was replaced by a man in his dreams, like a protector.

"Daddy..." Archir murmured unconsciously, resting against Aragorn's chest as his dreams settled. He did not know that Aragorn sat there holding him a long time before falling back asleep, a smile on his face.

**Author's Note: Archir is growing up as time goes on and soon they'll all notice. Hehe. Harry is slowly still thinking about his past, only its becoming easier to do so. The battle wasn't my best skill but, I tried my best. For those confused last chapter towards the end. The riders rode to the wall and that's when they were confronted by the Orcs like in the book. A word to the anonomyous guys I can't reply to; I'm not angry about what you said BUT I will NOT stop posting chapters up. That's just mean to my reviewers now that the story has been going. Cough. Anyways I hope you liked the major cuddling the group gives Archir. Couldn't resist. Cuddle Fest much? I most certainly had been wanting to write that daddy moment so badly lately. Yes the rest of the fellowship are going to be called something. Possibly Legolas as Ada, Gandalf as Papa, ect. You never know what I'm stirring up. Hehe. Review fast if you want Isengard's chapter to make way 's not THAT short in chapter length you guys. Stop being sad about the short chapter deal. Some Author's have a short amount the me and besides, at least I update faster than most. I like writing and usually have time after homework.  
**


	13. Protective Battles

**Ring Child**

**by Kiamii**

**Chapter Thirteen "Protective Battles"**

Archir yawned as he blearily awoke and blinked, allowing earlier's events to come back to his mind. He bolted up as he remembered a piece of vital information from last night. Besides the fact that he was growing up finally and not going to forever be the size of some bratty baby...

He had called Aragorn... He had called him... Archir wondered how the man had taken the word. He had called Aragorn his father... in less than formal terms. Archir had been thrashing about last night and strong and warm arms had wound around him, comforting him. They were so protective and comforting that Archir had called the man daddy before calming.

Archir shook his head. While he did think of Aragorn as a father, he was wary that Aragorn would hate to ever be called that. He'd have to ask the man and best find out if the man hated him or not.

Speaking of which... Archir spotted Legolas picking up the remains of a few equipment from the Orcs and the elf smiled brightly when he saw Archir. The little boy stood up only to collapse back down at the weight of his foot. Ouch. That hurt a lot!

"Shhh, I'm right here, try to take a deep breath for me little one," Aragorn's voice penetrated his mind and Archir wasn't even aware he'd been gasping with tears of pain until Aragorn had his arms wrapped around him, rubbing his back in small soothing circles. He did as told and relaxed as the man opted to instead lift him up onto his hip. Archir looked up at the man and caught the bright smile on Aragorn's face. Maybe...

"Can I call you daddy from now on?" Archir whispered softly, afraid of rejection. Stupid! Archir mentally scolded himself for blurting that out so childishly and boldly. He continued to beat himself up inwardly until...

"You may, little one, if I can call you son," Aragorn said with an even wider smile, if that was possible. Archir looked at him before he realized what he said and he smiled back, although it was shy. Archir nodded and Aragorn laughed, showing his own delight, hugging the child closer to him. Archir rested his head against the man's shoulder, feeling lighter than he had for awhile. Aragorn carried him over towards the rest of the group where Gandalf was.

When they remet with Éomer son of Éomund and Gamling the Old from the deep. The king smiled at Gandalf. The elderly wizard spotted his student and lifted Archir up into his arms, taking a look at the wound before adjusting Archir to sit on his hip as he talked.

"To Isengard I go to find the answers of my riddle," Gandalf said after awhile of discussion.

"To Isengard?" they cried whilst Archir just looked accepting and leaned against Gandalf, content.

"Yes, I shall return to the prison that held me, to Isengard, and those who will may come with me. There we may see stranger things than these lively trees." Gandalf said with a small and strained grin.

"But there are not enough of the men in the Mark, not if we were all together and healed to perfection, to assault Saruman." Théoden sighed, his son standing next to him, covered in various bruises and scratches from his skirmishes with orcs before and after.

"Nevertheless, to Isengard I must go. I shall not stay much longer there for my way lies eastward now. Look for me and young Archir, my student who goes where I must, in Edoras, ere the waning of the moon!" Gandalf said as he settled Archir up on top of Shadowfax. The horse seemed please to once more have the toddler on his back, and he displayed the pleasure with a rub to the child's head. Archir looked at Gandalf with a curious stare.

"Nay! In the dark hour that lies in front of us all before dawn I doubted, but we will not part now. I will come with, if that is your counsel."

"I wish to speak with Saruman, as soon as may be now. Since he has caused you great injury, it would be fitting for you to join. How soon and swift may you ride?" Gandalf asked, a quirked eyebrow as Aragorn mounted his own horse, obviously coming along. Legolas helped Gimli up on his and climbed up in front of the dwarf.

"Now that we have rested most and recovered more, we shall go when possible." The King of Rohan said.

"Do not command many men to journey with, for we go to a parley, not a fight." Gandalf warned. The King chose his men that were unhurt and had swift horses before he sent them forth with tidings of the victory into every vale of the Mark; And they bore his summons also, bidding all men, young and old, to come in haste to Edoras. Twenty of his household and his son and nephew were to come with. The men prepared to depart as the remaining others buried the corpses. Archir rested against Gandalf, fiddling with the piece of fabric.

When they rode, the stumbled into the forest where Gimli grunted how much he feared the trees, earning a laugh from Legolas which brought forth yet another of their arguments. How unfortunate for all that they were on the same horse...

They conflicted with the shepherds of the trees which evoked a rather hilarious run away scene with Legolas and Gimli before Gandalf talked with them, finding out about the Ents being away from Fangorn Forest, the same forest that Archir and himself had camped in, awaiting the arrival of the Company. What met their eyes upon finally reaching Isenguard was not devilry but... something different. They could not tell yet of what it beheld but, camped out on the bed of the Isen River. Few slept before the moon was gone and darkness crept by. Archir slept in Aragorn's arms that night, feeling restless.

Archir whimpered and it was Aragorn once again who held him tightly and reassured him that all would be alright.

"I'm worried about Pip and Merry... and Sam and Fro`, Daddy," Archir admitted as he nestled lightly against the man. Aragorn's heart soared at the title and he caressed Archir's black hair.

"They're all well and on their own missions, son." Aragorn responded, smiling when Archir relaxed before falling asleep as the man placed a gentle kiss on Archir's forehead. Legolas was right next to him along with Gandalf, neither sleeping.

"Daddy?" Legolas inquired, quirking both eyebrows. Gimli, who was next to them, grunted with a snort.

"He called me that last night and I allowed him to keep calling me that," Aragorn defended, though he was grinning as Legolas lightly punched him in the arm.

"You're such a father. Can I hold your son now, old man?" Legolas teased and Aragorn laughed before relinquishing his hold on the child, handing him to Legolas who cradled him. Legolas smiled brightly as Archir cuddled against his side. Aragorn snorted, seeing that all elves loved cuddles from a child, that was obvious.

"Ada..." Archir yawned, nuzzling his head into Legolas' chest. The two of them stiffened and realized in shock what the little boy called him. Gimli nearly roared in laughter, though he was touched by the two titles for the two men.

"I guess you two are both his father," Gandalf said with a chuckle. Legolas twitched slightly.

"I must say this sounds like an implied queer moment for you two old men," Gimli said gleefully before Legolas settled Archir into Gandalf's lap before tackling the dwarf. The two wrestled as Aragorn tried to stop laughing as much as he was now.

"It certainly feels refreshing to relax like that," Legolas chirped after he sat on the Dwarf's fat stomach and said dwarf struggled under the elf's weight. Aragorn smiled at the total out of character moment for them all before his gaze drifted back to Archir's sleeping form. A few words could be made out from the child's lips and Gandalf seemed to be twinkling in the eye.

"I love you daddy... Ada..." Archir slurred, tossing around lightly. He was mumbling some other words that Aragorn could not hear, though it looked like Gandalf could.

"Young ones tell of their thoughts a lot in their sleep," Gandalf said with an old man's grin. Aragorn chuckled and the group finally got a few moments sleep. When they were all awake once more and cared for, they made ready to go at dawn. They passed into Nan Curunnr, the Wizard's Vale. To their surprise, they found wilderness of weeds and thorns around the area. Brambles trailed upon the ground, or clambering over bush and bank, made shaggy cavers where small beasts housed. After they had ridden for some miles, the highway became a wide street and suddenly a tall pillar loomed up before them, black and set upon a great stone, remarking the similarity of a long White Hand, pointed north. The Ring of Isengard turned out to look quite like a graveyard of unquiet dead, the ground trembling. It was to their amazement of this all that they finally realized that Saruman's power had been overthrown. They were suddenly aware of two small figures lying on a great rubble-heap, grey-clad and surrounded by bottles and bowls and platters. They looked to be filled with food and rested of labor. One looked asleep while the other sun-bathed, smoking. For moment they were all quiet. Archir suddenly realized who they were and he gave a giggle as he saw their lazy stance. The giggle broke the men from their wonder and the two unknown figures looked at Archir.

"Why I must say! Little Archir!" Peregrin, son of Paladin and house of Took, exclaimed as Archir waved at them.

"Welcome, my lords and my dear Istari child, to Isengard! We are the door wardens. Far int he North is our home. The Lord Saruman is within; but at the moment he is closeted with one Wormtongue, or doubtless he would be here to welcome such honorable guests." Merry said with a humble smile.

"Doubtless he would! And it was Saruman that ordered you to guard his damaged guests?" Gandalf laughed as he slid from his horse and placed Archir next to Pippin who pulled him into a hug.

"No, good sir, the matter escaped him," answered Merry gravely, "He has much been occupied. Orders for us came from treebeard, the new management of Isengard." He then pulled Archir into his own hug once Pippin released the little boy. Archir smiled widely at them, returning the hugs and the two hobbits were overjoyed to not see their small charge flinch now! Gandalf and the King went off to the northern wall to talk with Treebeard, leaving only Archir, Aragorn, Legolas, and Gimli with the two hobbits. Merry and Pippin recounted their own troubles as Archir played around with a twig and the dirt, drawing a rune that he could remember from his days of Hogwarts. They talked until they decided to lunch, Legolas carrying the child and settling him down. Of course Merry and Pippin tried their best to fill the toddler up with as much food as he could even nibble on, of which he did as he sat in Aragorn's lap while the two hobbits explained of the Ents.

Merry and Pippin revealed their leather bag of tobacco and after wary glances shot at Archir by Legolas and Aragorn, they hid away it. It wouldn't do for a young child to be exposed to that stuff after all. That they knew. Archir contented himself with sitting by a tree as the others did give in and smoke in silence away from him slightly. It was after Merry and Pippin started in on the happenings of the Ents and Isengard that they went into the area and met with Gandalf and the King. They saw Saruman to their astonishment, swathed in a great cloak of unknown colour. Gandalf exchanged words with the losing Wizard whose eyes passed over to see the small child that was hiding beside the White Wizard's cloak, his emerald green ones mixing with him. His eyes both widened and narrowed.

"The fated Istari child sent from the Valar," He huffed, eying the child. Archir pressed himself against Gandalf. The wizard glared at Saruman and commanded the wizard to listen before finally handling enough and casting the evil man from the order and from the Council. He broke Saruman's staff and did not see Archir spot the head of the staff as it rolled, the ball unharmed and a globe of crystal dark. Archir watched warily as Pippin went after it and picked it up. Archir saw this and stared into the orb, suddenly feeling cold and dreadful. He convulsed and it was Legolas who noticed. The elf immediately picked the toddler up and he started panicking as the child thrashed about, eyes wide open and something frightening in his eyes. His emerald eyes were shining a bright neon lime green that screamed kill in them. The whole time, the child's eyes remained stuck to looking at the orb in Pippin's frightened hands. Gandalf turned around and he stared before snatching the orb from Pippin and wrapping it in a cloak, hiding it from his student's eyes. Archir stopped immediately and let out a shuddering gasp, burrowing into Legolas' shirt.

"I'm scared, Ada. I'm scared," Archir admitted, whimpering. Legolas rubbed circles into his back and rocked him silently, offering comfort.

"I should have guess." Gandalf sighed, putting away the orb. Legolas bundled up the child and chose to ride with the little one on his horse, Gimli riding with and behind him. Gandalf took Merry while Aragorn took Pippin on their horse. They rode further and nearer Isen before nightfall came down from the mountains. Archir shivered a little before looking up at Legolas. He looked to be in wonder as he realized something important like earlier in the days.

"Legolas?" Archir asked hesitantly, much like when he asked Aragorn.

"Hm?" Legolas hummed, rubbing the child's cheek with one hand softly.

"Am I allowed to call you Ada from now on? Like how I call Aragorn daddy?" Archir questioned, blushing a little, ashamed of his foolishness. He looked back up when Legolas brightened and nodded very much happily. Archir smiled back at the elf as they rode. They stopped finally and rested, lighting a fire in a hollow. Guards were set, two at a watch. The rest, after they had all supped, wrapped themselves in a cloak and blanket and slept. Merry was sleepy, yet Pippin seemed curiously restless. Archir was nestled against Pippin's side, one of the hobbit's arm looped around his waist lightly. The hobbit twisted and turned without awakening his charge.

"What's the matter?" Merry yawned, "Are you lying on an ant-hill? Archir carrying something sharp that's poking you?" Archir continued to sleep, a thumb in his mouth. Pippin looked down at the innocent child, shaking his head. He seemed to have enough and stood up, moving Archir over to lay in Merry's arms who looked at him curiously as Pippin ranted about the secrecy of Gandalf.

"Remember what old Sam would say; _Do not meddle in the Fair of Wizards, for they are subtle and quick to anger as I found out the hardest of way_." Merry warned, making sure the toddler was comfortable.

"I just want to have a look at it again. That stone!" Pippin huffed and he marched over to the wizard, despite the protest. Neither hobbit noticed Archir's sleepy eyes opening as their commotion bugged him. Pippin managed to swap the orb away from the wizard and he began to unwrap it as he came back right next to his friend. He sat down with it in his hands, fully unwrapped now, and was unaware that the orb touched Archir right in the hand until...

A scream of agony pierced the night of the men and they all scrambled out of their sleep and looked for the source only to find that it was a terror none had ever wanted to see. Archir the Emerald was screaming at the top of his longs, thrashing about in pain as he clutched his hand to his chest, crying and wailing like a babe would, only one soaked in torture. It was a scene that would lay in their minds for a very long time.

A cry added to the child's wails, causing them to find Pippin on his back and still, the ball in his hand.

"Fool of a took! The devilry! What mischief has he done-to himself, and to all of us? To my student?" The wizard's face was drawn and haggard. He laid his hands on the hobbits brow before Pippin shuddered, eyes closed. He cried out and sat up, starin in bewilderment though all faces were on the screaming boy. Aragorn rushed over and picked the child up from Merry's scared grasp, holding the child and rocking him back and forth while Legolas clutched the pained hand, trying to ease it.

They were all relieved to finally hear the screams reduce to simple child crying and then hiccuping as he sniffled, calming down at last. Gandalf helped Pippin back to his bed as Aragorn cradled his surrogate son, making shushing noises as Archir sniffled and hiccupped repeatedly, trying to stop his cries.

"`m sorry for waking you all," Archir hiccuped. The men couldn't find it ever in their hearts to have ever been mad at him tonight, for none of this had been the child's fault.

"As an Istari Child, you were made with a purity that not even a man child could own. This is why the ring does not come to power with you. Yet evil such as the head of Saruman's staff caused you great suffering because of your sensitivity. I am truly sorry that I failed to protect you so, littlun." Gandalf said with a worried frown.

"If I hadn't had looked just now, I wouldn't have seen that... that..." Archir went pale and burried into Aragorn's cloak, shuddering violently and it took awhile for him to calm down once more. The Company shared a deep frown, knowing that once more their young charge had been put in a dangerous issue...

**Author's Note: Yes Archir called Legolas, Ada, which means Dad in Elvish. It's like how someone can have two fathers, call one of them dad and the other father. My point. Aragorn and Legolas are now consciously called Daddy (sometimes dad) and Ada. The others will get their own titles soon. I hope you enjoyed the fun interactions between the Company in this chapter. I had some fun with Gimli and Legolas. I hope you enjoyed the violent scene at the end. I had to be evil to him at some point, I'm sorry!!! Well... there is certainly more to come soon. **


	14. Misadventures

**Ring Child**

**by Kiamii**

**Chapter Fourteen "Misadventures"**

They reached morning very much long after. Archir had been unable to sleep the remainder of nightfall, terrified of everything around him. The others did not know of the horrors that took place, for Archir's mouth shut tight when pushed to talk. Archir was currently sitting in his Ada's lap, as he had taken to calling Legolas. Currently, the elf was arguing with Gimli the dwarf about the number of Orcs they hacked off.

"I believe in the last battle I got twenty one." Gimli said arrogantly.

"As I had gotten Twenty Two," Legolas argued back, running a hand through his charge's hair absentmindedly. Archir was just sitting there, a thumb in his mouth as he had suddenly started since the night scare. The group couldn't figure out if this was a bad habit for him or not. Archir just sucked his thumb for a bit, so they decided to see how long he kept at this new found habit. He was just a child after all and had seen something probably terrible. For the little boy shook tremendously when they had inquired about the night terror.

Archir, in his mind, found it rather weird how he couldn't stop sucking his thumb, but the child in him found it reassuring and comforting. He leaned against Legolas, feeling content with his thumb in his mouth.

"You're just sore losers," Aragorn said as he came up behind Gimli and plopped down beside him. Gimli and Legolas glared at Aragorn, hearing the toddler giggle at them. Aragorn swiftly scooped Archir up from Legolas' lap and held the little boy in his arms, against his chest.

"Feeling any better son?" Aragorn asked the child, adjusting Archir so that he could relax in comfort. Archir rested his head on the man's shoulder, relishing in the feeling he got whenever he was held. Any other 17 year old would squawk with indignant feelings but, Archir found peace and craving for it. He stayed silent for a minute or two, having not talked since last night before he opened his mouth to let his thumb out and looked at 'daddy'.

"I'm still scared daddy," Archir whispered, looping both his arms around Aragorn before the man began to rub soothing circles into his back. Aragorn was happy that Archir was admitting what he felt, yet he felt concerned for what was happening to the little boy.

"Want to tell me what you saw little one?" Aragorn inquired softly, resting against a tree trunk as Archir nuzzled his neck, feeling very warm and comfortable in the man's arms still. He kept his arms wrapped around the little one, enjoying the breeze that blew their hair. The sun sparkled dimly in their faces and the others were getting ready to continue their journey. They were going to leave Isenguard and head for Helm's Deep to see the rest of the Rohan folk finally, and Aragorn was anxious, for he felt that something was going to happen to his little boy. Aragorn paused and stared at Archir. Yes, the child in his arms were his... His and Legolas' little boy. The thought brought a smile to the man's face before he saw Archir staring at something in the sky, lost in his own world now.

"I saw things I ought not to see, I'm guessing. I saw things that brought terror to my mind at once. Some things were old and some were new. Some were my memories and others my dreams. I saw an eye, watching me, trying to draw me in, insisting that I let it take over me. Then I saw things both cold and too hot. I was so scared... I was afraid that he'd get you daddy. That I would never see any of you ever again," Archir said near silent, tears falling from his bright emerald eyes in a slow manner. Aragorn felt his heart breaking and he rocked the child around as Archir explained that he saw what life could have been, had been, and was now.

"I wonder what Frodo and Sam are doing," Archir mused softly, looking towards where Mount Doom was, where Mordor lay ahead. Aragorn placed a hand on the back of the 3-year-old's head, resting his own chin on top of his head. Legolas and Gimli were fighting in the background again, this time arguing who could drink the most, and who could climb better. Those two bickered like brothers, Aragorn thought as he chuckled.

"They're probably having a grand time, as one could in such situations," Aragorn assured the boy. He looked back down at Archir who peaked an eye upward toward him, looking at his caretaker in apprehension. Aragorn smiled sadly, wishing Archir never had to face these kinds of things.

"Why don't you go converse with Gandalf, little one?" Aragorn asked and he received a shy smile in return before Archir stood up and ran over to the older wizard who swung him up and onto his hip swiftly and easily. Aragorn watched from a distance, finding a grandfather and grandson appeal in the two and their relationship. They were mentor and son, yet seemingly closer than that. Archir's emerald green robes lit up brighter than lazy grass, white Gandalf featured a white moon. The two were good for each other, they were family...

Gandalf called him over and they talked with the king who took 10 of his men and left the others to Aragorn. Gandalf swiftly lifted Pippin up onto Shadowfax before Archir looked hesitant, laying in Aragorn's arms. He looked up at the man who he thought of as a father. The images from the stone flashed in his mind, as well as those of his former best friends. Hermione and Ron... Ginny... Neville... Luna... Archir looked at Gandalf, his mind made up, and he knew where Gandalf would go with Pippin. Whether this would be for the good or bad, Archir would not know until his decision was made.

"I wish to go with you to Minas Tirith, Gandalf," Archir said quietly. Aragorn looked at the little boy sadly, knowing he couldn't convince the little boy not to. Gandalf looked grave but, nodded his head in agreement as Aragorn lifted the child up by Pippin who embraced the small body.

"Bye daddy. Thank you," Archir said to the man before looking at the others, "and you too, Ada... and Uncle Gimli," The dwarf looked surprised at hearing his own new found title before blushing, provoking a snicker from Elf and the dwarf glared at Legolas before nodding, smiling at the little wizard. Archir looked at Aragorn one last time before Gandalf took off in another direction, leaving the others behind.

They rode for hours, listening to Gandalf's Rhymes of Lore. It was about the palantnri of the Kings of Old and meant that which looks far away. This led to Archir hearing Gandalf explain about the stone. The Orthanc-stone that is. A Noldor, Flanor, had wrought the seven stones in days so long ago that time could not be measured in years. Pippin slowly began to follow asleep and Archir, wide awake, practiced his orb while Gandalf watched while he kept eyes also on their rode.

"Concentrate a little more on the intent, rather than your will. Why do you want it?" Gandalf guided gently and Archir thought about it. He wanted the little lit ball because it would bright light towards their dark. Archir watched in delight as the orb grew brighter, like staring at a flashlight. Gandalf smiled in encouragement and this provoked Archir to keep going. He practiced well into the night, keeping the roads lit for Gandalf as they did and Pippin slept the whole journey, having gotten little sleep lately. Archir was too much full of adrenaline to sleep, though when they reached a silent town in the dawn, Gandalf made sure that Archir slept on with Pippin in a corner, dimly aware of comings and goings of men talking and Gandalf giving orders, for the winged shadow that had passed over them before their ride was over them again here.

At night, they rode again and it was the third night of hazy memories that Pippin finally spoke, watching Archir's sleeping form. The child's thumb was locked in his mouth, his free hand gripping the white cloak of Gandalf. His eyes were closed and his head rested against one of Gandalf's arms. He looked smaller than before, yet different...

"Where are we, Gandalf?" Pippin finally asked, looking at the sleeping child who was so innocent and yet so much older than his toddler years. His features were much different than when Pippin had first met him. It was a sad theory that war was hardening this small and young child, Pippin thought to himself.

"In the realm of Gondor, the land of Anurien is still passing us by. Young Archir has exhausted his energy quite well," Gandalf said, looking down at his student with fond eyes. Pippin found the moment so... normal that he smiled back at the two before gripping Gandalf's cloak in sudden fear.

"Look! Fire, red fire Gandalf! Are there dragons in this land? Another one!" Pippin's yells awoke Archir who yawned and looked around sleepily, cocking his head to the side as he noted they were nothing like dragon fire. Panic did not rise in the toddler, for he remembered what Gandalf had said in one of their lessons together. They were calls for help.

"On Shadowfax! We must be haste for our time is short. Those are no flames of dragons. They are the beacons of Gondar, alight and calling for air. War is now kindled. The calls go speeding west: Nardol, Erelas, Min-Rimmon, Calenhad, and the Halifirien on the borders of Rohan!" Gandalf explained as Shadowfax paused and neighed. Gandalf bid them to sleep once more and Archir stubbornly told Gandalf that he would not. The old wizard grumbled and watched Pippin find sleep before turning to his charge.

"Why must you stay awake, littlun?" Gandalf inquired, pulling Archir onto his lap, fiddling with a strand of the black hair. Archir looked up at him, feeling that he should at least try with Gandalf like he had with the others. He loved Gandalf dearly, as much as he had loved Albus and possibly more.

"I feel as if nothing will last much longer. Change is coming and I want to ask you something now," Archir said, looking at Gandalf with hesitant eyes. The old wizard looked at him encouragingly before Archir drew a breath.

"May I give you the title, Papa, from now on Gandalf? For to me, you are my Papa like Legolas is my Ada and Aragorn is my daddy. Like Gimli is my uncle. All titles that I see fit you," Archir said in a whisper. Gandalf sat there for the longest of times, looking at the sky, before nodding at Archir who broke into a smile. He had done it. He had asked all four of them if he could call them what he had wanted to for awhile, and they had all said yes.

"I love you Papa," Archir said with a bright grin that Gandalf couldn't help but return. The elderly man kissed the top of Archir's forehead before whispering the response softly.

"I love you too my little one," Gandalf said with a smile. They stayed there, mentor and student, looking up at the sky until a great like roar approached their hearing and it awoke Pippin. For they were sleeping out in almost open at this time, having not yet reached Minas Tirith. Gandalf looked towards the south and spotted a row of Orcs all charging forth, clearly having spotted the child, hobbit, and elderly.

"Archir, draw your staff and let us be quick and swift," Gandalf said quickly as the two stood up, Shadowfax now bearing Pippin on his back. Archir let his staff's energy flowing in his hands before he quickly shot off flames towards the orcs in quick succession. Gandalf sent forth his own reign of fire and the two powerful wizards fought side by side, attempting to keep the many Orcs away.

Pippin squeaked as an arrow nearly got him and he saw Archir fighting as best he could, Gandalf holding up fairly well just the same... until an arrow struck the wizard in the shoulder. Pippin knew the wizard would be okay, yet he watched in near fear as the little wizard's emerald eyes grew dark and into slits as he saw his mentor struck.

"I've had enough," the toddler growled, sounding far more older and powerful than before. Pippin watched in stunned amazement as a green light came from the center of the child's chest and grew larger and large until it blinded Pippin. The hobbit covered his eyes as the green flashed neon lime and began to grow in mass, covering the entire area with its light. A scream of anger and of pain could be heard and Pippin covered his head as he heard something crash, something pound against rock and boulders. He couldn't see what was going on, simply hearing the sound of tearing, slitting, and breaking. Screams of raw power struck Pippin's ears and he nearly whimpered, unsure of what was going on.

Archir had been feeling something bubble inside him since the Orcs had attacked this time. He was tired of fighting and people getting hurt. So when Gandalf had gotten struck, even if it may be minor, something inside him seemed to be like a soda can that was shook too much. He had concentrated on all the dark feelings that surrounded him and just let it out. He had felt hatred. Anger for always being the one to fight and anger for the deaths of many. The next, Archir could not explain really. He had to close his eyes as a light blinded himself and he felt his body shake with energy being released. Archir felt his head get lighter and lighter... His eyes fell to look at the ground and it rushed up to meet with him. Archir's last conscious thought was never formed as he dropped down in pain, whimpering and suddenly becoming still...

Gandalf groaned in his head as he looked around him and his eyes bulged, which would have been hilarious had anyone been watching. For the elderly wizard was never so out of character such as this. Yet his reaction made sense with what he was witnessing. All around were bodies of Orcs of at least hundreds, burnt to a crisp and slaughtered. Pippin sat on Shadowfax, perfectly unharmed, while Archir... Gandalf's eyes scanned the area and he ran towards the fallen child, picking him up in his arms.

"Archir," Gandalf said gently, moving a stray piece of hair from Archir's eyes, "can you hear me?"

"Pa...pa?" Archir groaned, unable to move without whimpering. Pippin looked over at them with concern and Gandalf immediately placed the child on the back of the horse and jumped on, lopping his arms around the little boy.

"Ride Shadowfax, and make haste." Gandalf said firmly to his friend. The horse did as told and ran as fast as could ever been. Pippin didn't think Shadowfax, or any horse for that matter, could ever ride this fast at such a pace. They rode faster and faster until a night of journey and day of hiding had fleeting by, making it twilight. Gandalf slid off the horse to meet many tall men heavily cloaked, who talked to him in lowered voices, seeing the child in Gandalf's arms. Archir was breathing heavily, bruised and scarred all along his body. His emerald robes were unaffected by this and the men knew immediately this was the child wizard.

"We know you, Mithrandir, and you know the passwords of the Seven Gates and are free to go forward. But we do not know the other companion, yet we know of the wizard child somewhat." The leader of the men spoke.

"In my arms lay my injured student and on Shadowfax sits someone I will vouch for before the seat of Denethor. His name is Peregrin, a very valiant man." Gandalf said.

"Man?" said Ingold dubiously.

"Man!" Pippin cried out, thoroughly roused, "Man! Inded not! I am a hobbit! Do not let Gandalf deceive you!" The hobbit looked at Gandalf with a half-heartened glared while Gandalf was keeping his eyes on the panting child. Ingold looked confused and Gandalf explained that Pippin was a halfling, not the one spoken of, but a kindred of Frodo. The men gave Gandalf a first aid and the wizard tended to his student before bidding the men farewell and continuing his ride into the wide land beyond the Rammas Echor.

After Gandalf had ridden for some time the light of day grew in the sky. Pippin noticed the White Mountains of Ered Nimrais which was where they came to their end as he saw the dark mass of Mount Mindolluin, the deep purple shadows of its high glens. Gandalf, Peregrin, and Archir rode to the Great Gate of the Men of Gondor at the rising of the sun, and its iron doors rolled back before them. Gandalf kept Archir wrapped up in a blanket, clutching him to his chest as Archir shivered violently, seemingly to be on a breakdown.

"His magic is angry with how much amount he used up earlier," Gandalf told Pippin who looked at the boy with sad eyes.

"Mithrandir! Mithrandir!" men cried who seemed to know that the storm of the war was nigh.

"Let me pass as it is upon you. I have ridden on its wings. I must come to your Lord Denethor, while his stewardship lasts. Whatever betide, you have come to the end of the Gondor that you have known. Let me pass!" Gandalf said with grave of a voice, command behind it. They fell back and gazed in wonder at the hobbit, watching in amazement of the child sleeping in Gandalf's arms. The horse that bore him also overwhelmed many.

The guards of the gate were robed in black, and their helms were of strange shape, high-crowned, with long cheek-guards close-fitting to the face. Aboce the cheek-guards were set the white wings of sea-birthds, the helm colored in silver flame. They were mithril, Gandalf could tell.

_Seven stars and seven stones and one white tree._ This thought came back into Pippin's mind as they gazed at the tree. Already the word had spread of Gandalf's coming and the guards stepped aside silently and at once. Gandalf strode across the white-paved with his student in his grasp, Pippin following quickly.

The walked down a paved passage, long and empty, and as they went Gandalf spoke to Pippin with a hurried voice, "Be careful of your words, Master Peregrin! This is not time for hobbit pertness, especially while I carry Archir in danger. He may be immortal, but he can be gravely ill from what has taken place. Denethor is proud and subtle, not called a king. He will want to know of his son Boromir. Do not tell him more than need be, and keep hushed about Frodo's errand. Say nothing of Aragorn either, unless you must."

"Why not of Strider?" Pippin whispered. Gandalf did not answer and simply told Pippin that if he comes, claim the kingship, which made Pippin mighty confused. Gandalf clutched Archir tighter to his chest, taking dismay in the cold from the small boy's skin. The doors opened, but no one could be seen there opening it. Pippin was reminded of the hewn rocks of Argonath and awe fell upon the Hobbit as he looked around.

"Hail, Lord and Steward of Minas Tirith, Denethor son of Ecthelion! I have come with counsel and tidings in this dark hour." Gandalf said in a firm voice, "Yet I also bring need of aid for a young child I care of, who was injured greatly."

"The child will be granted health, for he is kinship of mankind," Denethor answered before continuing, "Dark indeed is the hour and at such times you are wont to come, Mithrandir. But through all the signs forebode that the doom of Gondor is drawing nigh, less now to me is that darkness than my own darkness. It has been told to me that you bring with you one who saw my son die. Is this he or the child?"

"Is it he, one of the twain. The other is with the king of Rohan and may come here after. Halflings they are, as you see, yet this is not he of whom the omens spoke."

"Yet a Halfling still," Denethor said with a grim face as a guard came forth with a large pillow. Gandalf placed the child on the pillow, subtly moving the emerald robes out of view and keeping the blanket around his form. There was nothing Gandalf could do, but to wait it out with the child. The old steward continued, "and little love do I bear the name, since those accursed words came to trouble our counsels and drew away my son on the wild errand to his death. My Boromir! Now we have need of you. Faramir should have gone in his stead."

"He would have gone," Gandalf said, shaking his head, "Be not unjust in your grief! Boromir claimed the errand and would not suffer any other to have it. He was a masterful man, and one to take what he desired. I journeyed far with him and learned much of his mood. But you speak of his death. You have had news of that ere we came?"

"I have received this," Denethor said, holding forth the great horn cloven through the middle: a wild-ox horn bound with silver that Boromir had always worn before death. It was at this that Pippin spoke and Gandalf watched grimly as the hobbit promised to pay in debt and the old wizard bound the poor young hobbit with the Steward of the High King. The man demanded to hear full tale of Boromir's passing and Gandalf was led to the housing prepared for him. Gandalf strode from the hall after picking his student back up and Pippin followed.

"Are you angry with me, Gandalf?" Pippin asked as the guard closed the door and left, "I did the best I could."

"You did indeed!" Gandalf said, laughing quite suddenly yet he gazed at the unconscious child in his arms, keeping an arm around Pippin's small shoulders. Pippin found the lines of care and sorrow; though as he looked more intently he perceived that under all there was a great joy: a fountain of mirth enough to set a kingdom laughing. Gandalf assured Pippin that he did his best and that this would have come forth (the news) eventually.

"Well, no need to brood on what tomorrow may bring. For one thing, tomorrow will be certain to bring worse than today, for many days to come. Yet I feel that Archir's strength will return to us soon. There is nothing more I can do to help this war. The board is set, and the pieces are moving. One piece that I greatly desire to find is Faramir, the new heir of Denethor. I must go to this lords' council and learn what I can. I must bring Archir with me, for his weakened state worries me and I have to keep sake that he awakens near me and not alone. I am in haste Pippin. Do me a favor when you go out. Even before you rest, if you are not too weary. Go and find Shadowfax and see how he is housed." Gandalf said before leaving.

Through out that day Pippin dealt with much adventure as he waited for Gandalf who awoke him at night, pacing to and fro while Archir thrashed about in the large bed, dressed in soft pajamas of teal.

"Hullo!" Pippin chirped, "I thought you had forgotten all about me. I am glad to see you back. It has been a long day." Pippin looked over at Archir who whimpered, froze, twitched once more, and rolled around. He was deeply unconscious and thrown in the fits of a nightmare. Gandalf went over to his charge and picked him up, rocking him around gently as Archir nearly screamed out denials of things in his nightmare. Words like "Uncle Gimli", "Ada", "Daddy", "Papa", "Frodo", "Pip", "Sam", and "Merry" slipped from his lips more than once. Pippin felt his heart go out for the small child who experienced so much at such a young age. Archir relaxed only slightly as Gandalf drew him to his chest, rubbing circles in his back as he softly sang a song from the elves that they sang to the elflings to get them to sleep. Archir's scrunched up eyes loosened and he fell into a real sleep, to Pippin's relief. Gandalf set him back down on the bed and covered Archir up. He ruffled Archir's black raven-colored hair and placed a small kiss upon the crown of the wizard's forehead before turning to Pippin, speaking lowly.

"But the night will be too short. I have come back here, for I must have a little peace, with only Archir. You should sleep, in a bed while you still may. I had been unable to find Faramir and Archir has yet to awaken. His response is a frightening thing to witness, yet I feel it shall pass... I hope. At the sunrise I shall take you to the Lord Denthor again. No, when the summons comes, not at sunrise. The Darkness has begun. There will be no dawn."

**Author's Note: This was a little darker than the others because Archir is suffering from the effects of Saruman's staff head or whatever that thing was. I'm too lazy to bother looking the name up. Hahahah! Stop getting onto me people. I'm not ticked by this, just laughing that you guys all seem too weird about his sleeping. Notice some of the good stuff I write came when Archir slept. So THERE. Thank you Vanime18431 for helping me out on that. 3 year olds and ANY child sleep ALOT. Hehe. Sorry, had caffine. Way too hyper again. We are now in the Return of the King segment of the series, the last novel. The book is coming to an end and I'm not sure if this fanfiction is just yet. We shall see though, we shall see...**


	15. Recoveries?

**Ring Child**

**by Kiamii**

**Chapter Fifteen "Recoveries"**

_It was dark. That was the first thing he noticed. Everywhere around him was pitch black mist, keeping him from seeing. Yet, he could see these small green orbs floating downward, like crystals or flakes. He reached a small hand towards one of them and as his tiny little hand felt the surface of something impossibly smooth and soft, the orb enlarged and he found himself staring at two people. One was a redheaded girl staring at a blond boy. _

_"You know, Harry must be rolling in his grave," the redhead said. Harry? Wasn't that his name from before?_

_"I agree with that. He would be haunting me right now probably. The Malfoy ferret friends the Boy-Who-Defeated-The-Dark-Lord's girl." the blond told the girl, smiling a little. Friends? Malfoy... The name was familiar. The blonde smiled at the girl before he remembered something. Their names. Ginerva Weasley and Draco Malfoy. _

_The scene blacked out and he reached for something else, possibly to help him understand all this..._

_This orb felt rough and distorted, enlarging to be a scene of a tall man that looked old and dead-like. He was glaring at something, seemingly of something below and he could not make it out on what it was. He blinked before he came to realization that this was Saruman. The scene shifted to now show of a grave with a name on it, kept hidden away so that none could destroy the grave; Voldemort._

_He blinked again and finally remembered who he was. His name used to be Harry James Potter... before... before he killed Voldemort and was given another life to lead. One where he wasn't pressured to be the hero, instead they wanted him to be protected, unlike in the Wizarding World. He was in Middle Earth, a small child who was looked down upon if not for his robes which signified him a wizard. The only child wizard of his kind. He was under the care of currently Gandalf... They were travelling to Minas Tirith when at a night, Archir, Pippin, and Gandalf had been attacked by orcs. Archir remember screaming and pain, blacking out he realized that the orcs around them dropped dead._

_Around him were now Lords and Queens... The Valar that Archir had met before. They were the Aratar, the High Ones of Arda (which was a name for the world of Middle Earth...) Archir remembered most of their names, especially the one in front of him who gave him a ghostly smile, the king of the Valar; Manwë. Next to him was his wife; Varda Elentári. He spoke for the eight that were around him. He was broad and tall with a handsome set of features. He was god-like as much as the others that Archir could see around him. He was a friendly person who had been kind to Harry when they first met, and he looked at Archir just like before.  
_

_"You've come quite a ways from the child that we sent to Middle Earth," Manwë spoke gently, seeing Archir standing straight and meeting his eye level with respect, unlike the first meeting in which Harry Potter had glared in confusion (unable to figure out what was going on and he had JUST defeated a dark lord not but a few minutes ago when they had brought him to them) and then became frightened, unable to look them in the eyes for he felt their power. Archir nodded quietly, memories of his past coming to him slowly, and memories of what was happening in his old world. The thought made him content to know that at least he wasn't in the dark about what was happening to his old friends.  
_

_"Papa... Gandalf told me I will never go back to my old world, is this true sir?" Archir asked, hesitant. Manwë nodded, walking forward to Archir. He knelt down and looked the child in the eye. _

_"You have come to be a strong child, and you will keep growing as years flow by. You are immortal, yet you can still die from certain things that could take place. You have created a family along the way and a time will come when you will have to choose what to do. I can not tell you this request ahead of time, just that you will grow to understand. You will not be able to return to be Harry Potter ever again though your scar is more important than you think." He told him. Archir looked at his feet, unable to feel sad. He had seen sequences of his old world's happening. Sure they were sad that he was dead, but they were making lives for themselves._

_"I understand... Thank you," Archir said with as much meaning as he could. He looked Manwë in the eyes once more, feeling that the Vala did what he felt best for him. He hadn't even been apart of this world before, yet they had watched him as he grew up. When he had first met them, they told him that something had drawn Manwë to him at birth and the Vala had watched him until the final moment where he pulled him to Middle Earth. Because of the Valar, Archir had finally gotten to be a child. Finally gotten to be apart of a family even during a war going on. _

_"Sleep, Archir the Emerald, for something new awaits you with each awakening day. We will see you when the time is right." Manwë said before the darkness began to fade and in its place -_

Archir bolted upright with a gasp of pain, clutching his stomach tenderly as he felt the wound stretch painfully. He blinked away sleep and looked around the room that he was in. He was lying on a large bed with heavy blankets drawn over him, up to his waist. They were a beige color while the room was the same. He spotted his bag hanging off the edge of a chair and he could hear voices. He recognized Papa's immediately, although another one he could not place. Comprehension dawned on him as he knew that he was in Minas Tirith. He crawled to the edge of the bed, dismayed to find himself in pajamas that we not as soft like the elves, more like rough from man made. He shed the pajamas and got dressed in a shirt and shorts before searching for his emerald cloak. Along the journey, he had come to know that being a wizard was something very much treated with respect and the colored robes gave them away. He found the cloak in the closet and he put his arms through them, buttoning up the front and looking at his cloak in admiration in the mirror.

_You will keep growing as years flow by. _Archir blinked as he looked at himself in the mirror. He suddenly didn't look much like a baby coming into their toddler years. He was steadily becoming a child of possibly four going on five now. The thought was pleasant and he remembered Haldir had said he'd always cuddle him no matter his age. Archir brushed his hand across his cheek, feeling that they were cold and warm at the same time. He stared at his reflection, seeing his hair growing to his upper chest. Archir arched an eyebrow before looking around and heading to a desk. He found a knife and smiled before going back to the mirror and using his magic to slowly and effectively trim his hair back to his shoulder. He hid the knife away and shook his hair out before pulling it in a tie at the back.

Archir walked over to the door, mindful of his injuries that were seen on his palms. If he could remember correctly, they had come from the light that he had blared at the orcs. There were small circles at the corner of both palms, looking almost burnt. Archir winced and placed a hand on his forhead before he felt the lightning bolt scar that was once faded, coming back. Slowly, yet it was there again. He remembered what Manwë had said... There was something else to do with his scar besides connections to Voldemort... In the time that he had touched the orb, Archir had felt the presence of Saruman staring at his scar, as though it was the world's grandest treasure.

Ignoring the voices, Archir crept out of the room and past his papa and the bizarre man who reeked of something fishy. As in, the fish and probably wary plans. Archir began to look all around the halls as he walked, seeing portraits here and there. He was almost reminded of Hogwarts, except this place wasn't magical like elves and wizards... more muggle like.

"They have come! Take courage and look! There are fell things below." A voice shouted to someone and Archir could hear Pippin speaking back. His heart grew cold as he heard the word Black Riders, so he remained silent. The man beside Pippin squeaked out the name of someone Archir could not remember. Faramir... Wasn't he Boromir's... uncle? Nope. Father? Nahhh... Brother. Yes, that was it. Archir recalled that this was Boromir's home and place, his brother Faramir was someone that Boromir told wondrous stories about. Archir smiled. He'd have liked to meet Faramir and when Boromir told him of his life, he had promised to take Archir to meet him. Thinking of the man brought a frown to his face. He had asked Daddy where Boromir was once... during a camp out on their way to Isenguard. Apparently Boromir had died to save Pippin and Merry. The thought was saddening and Archir wished he could have said goodbye. The man cared about them and he was very kind and brave. Aragorn did tell him that Boromir wanted to give him something and Archir had that now around his neck, ever since then, though he had forgotten about it until now.

Around his neck was a pendant, made of jewels not seen commonly around. It was shaped to hold a lightning bolt, like on his forehead's mark, Aragorn explained. Archir held the pendant to his chest as he looked out the window to see a flash of white and silver coming from the North, like a small star in a dusky field. He heard Pippin crying for Gandalf and Archir concentrated on his feelings for Boromir, the man who loved this city very much and as a dead man, wished to always protect his home and people. Archir watched as a the White Rider (as they called Gandalf) raced forward towards the Nazgyl (Black Riders) who wailed and served away. Archir slid off the seat of the window and closed his eyes as he tried to remember how to apparate. Even though it had been months since he had done so, he remembered the steps very clearly;

1) Fix your mind firmly upon the desired destination.

2) Focus your determination to occupy the visualized space. Let your yearning to enter it flood from your mind to every particle of your body.

3) Turn on the spot, feeling your way into nothingness, moving with deliberation.

Archir looked at the spot that he wanted to go before closing his eyes and with a POP! he found himself falling down and landing with a loud eep on the ground, throwing his hands in front of him to protect his head. He heard Gandalf yelping his name before he felt arms wrap around his stomach and heave him up, moving him to rest in the person's arms. Archir opened his eyes to see someone very much like Boromir. This was Faramir...

"Hullo," Archir said shyly, biting his lip. The man laughed and adjusted Archir on to his hip.

"Hello child, quite a magic trick you pulled just now." Faramir said with a gentle smile. He was just like Boromir, only he looked younger and had softer features upon him. Archir felt shy and nervous around him now, embarrassed at having fallen in front of the man. He reminded Archir of Remus Lupin... He was also one of the Kings of Men born into a later time, but touched with the wisdom and sadness of the Elder Race. He was a captain admired that men would follow, that he himself would follow, even under the shadow of the black wings.

"Come now child, what is your name? Whence come you?" Faramir asked, walking over to Gandalf with the child on his hip, holding him with both arms.

"I'm Archir the Emerald and I came with Gandalf," Archir said, giving the man a sheepish smile. Faramir arched an eyebrow before warmly smiling at Archir with a brighter smile. He was looking at the emerald robes that Archir bore.

"I see... You are the famed Istari Child," Faramir said with a hint of amazement. As if he was proud to be holding Archir even more. His eyes traveled to the scar that was now boldly being displayed on the child's forehead. Curious scar... When Archir squirmed, uncomfortable, Faramir dropped his gaze from the scar to Archir's eyes.

"Faramir!" A voice cried out aloud with others who shouted his name. Faramir turned, hearing the strange voice and saw to his amazement.

"A halfling and in the liver of the Tower!" Faramir said with surprise.

"He came with me from the land of the Halflings." Gandalf explained before they walked into the private chamber of the Lord of the City, Archir riding on the hip of Faramir. They sat around on seats and wine was brought, though Archir was given a drink that tasted most like grape. He sipped it and smiled at the taste, though he did miss Pumpkin juice and Butterbeer. Pippin stood behind the chair of Denethor, though the man was looking at Archir with some apprehension as Faramir first asked Archir what he could do.

"My favorite is to build an orb that Papa taught me," Archir admitted, feeling that this revealed fact was not all that important. He held out his hand, forgetting about the scars (which Gandalf immediately spotted and frowned) and concentrated. He thought about the shape of the orb. This time, he mused, he wanted it to be a star. He felt a warmth tingle down his hand and a light began to form, shaping itself into a star and it turned a midnight blue. Archir smiled and held it out to Faramir who stared at it with amazed eyes, though Denethor looked at it dumbly.

After Faramir had taken white bread and drunk a draught of wine, he sat upon a low chair at his father's left hand while Archir crawled over to sit in Gandalf's lap, munching on a piece of his own bread. Faramir spoke only of the errand, bringing tidings of Ithilien and of movement of the Enemy before he looked at Pippin.

"But now we come to strange matters, for this is not the first halfling that I have seen walking out of northern legends into the Southlands." Faramir said, furrowing his brows. Gandalf tightened his hold on Archir, staring at Faramir after sending a silent message to Pippin to shush. Denethor caught on to the message and nodded that he had read much there before it was spoken. As Faramir continued his tale of Frodo and his servant, Archir felt Gandalf trembling, his hands very old and white now. His Papa was scared... And that made Archir shake too.

"Cirith Ungol? Morgul Vale? The time, Faramir, the time? When did you part with them? When would they reach that accursed valley?" Gandalf asked hurriedly.

"I parted with them in the morning two days ago. It is 15 leagues thence to the vale of Morgulduin, if they went straight south; and then they would be still five leagues westward of the accursed Tower. " Faramir said slowly and watched as Gandalf put Archir on the floor, beginning to pace. He asked questions that seemed to quiet Gandalf and Archir walked over to Faramir who picked him up and settled him on his lap, rubbing circles into the back of the child to calm him from Gandalf's own fright mood. Faramir looked at his father and the two of them talked, Denethor doing nothing but insult. They argued and Gandalf even spoke of Boromir, causing Faramir to tighten his hold on Archir like Gandalf had done. The little boy wriggled until he was let out of the grip and he bit his cheek before walking over to the door.

"Go now and rest as you may. Tomorrow's need will be sterner." Denethor growled. Faramir took his leave with Gandalf and Pippin, watching as the old wizard took the little boy's hand and they walked out. Once safely in their rooms, Pippin turned to Gandalf as the wizard unbuttoned Archir's cloak and hung it up, allowing the child to move freely. For in private of your trusted company, a wizard was able to be themselves sometimes.

"Tell me, is there any hope? For Frodo, I mean; or at least mostly for Frodo." Pippin asked. Gandalf walked over to Pippin and placed a hand on his head.

"There never was much hope. Just a fool's hope, as I have been told. And when I heard of Cirith Ungol -" He stopped talking for a moment and looked at the window. Archir watched him with apprehension in his young eyes and Pippin climbed up on the bed to hug the child.

"Cirith Ungol!" Gandalf continued, "Why that way, I wonder... Just now, Pippin, my heart almost failed me, to hear that name of which is firghtening. Yet... I feel that Faramir's news brings hope in it. Some anyways... For it seems clear that our Enemy has opened his war at last and made the first move while Frodo was still free. Something had happened to stir Sauron though... He has begun sooner than he would, turning his eyes on everywhere but them." Gandalf said quietly.

"You've caused quite a stir, littlun," Gandalf said gently as he sat next to Archir on the bed, pulling a hand through his hair.

"I remembered something I learned back ago. How to appear in certain places... I just hadn't practiced for so long I fell Papa." Archir explained as Gandalf redressed him in his elven-made night clothes before tucking him away in the bed. Pippin crawled under the covers as well. Gandalf rested beside Archir, keeping an arm around the child as Archir scooted closer and fell asleep. Gandalf closed his eyes, allowing sleep to overcome him.

The next day came with a morning like a brown dusk, and the hearts of men, lifted for a while by the return of Aramir, sank low again though this time, they talked about the Istari child. Faramir was leaving again and Archir had awaken at the sounds of Faramir's voice passing the door. He scooted out from under his sleeping papa and ran to the hall. He called out to the man and looked at Faramir with sad eyes, the child clad in his elven-made pajamas and the pendant... Faramir's eyes widened and he walked back over to the child, kneeling down to look at the exposed necklace.

"This was Boromir's pendant..." Faramir choked.

"He gave it to me before he died," Archir said so quietly, the man had to strain his ears to hear, "He told me when I met him... about you. You gave this to him when you were my age, right?"

"Yes... I was a few years old, and Boromir was my protector..." Faramir said with a watery smile. He looked into the emerald eyes of the Istari and he braced a hand against the child's cheek, "You are one so innocent that I can see why he would gift it with you... I have to leave again, so take care of something Boromir gave to me until I can get back. Will you grant me that?" Faramir asked and Archir nodded. The man undid something off his arm and Archir could now see that it was a bracelet with a BF engraved on a stone in the middle of it. Faramir took Archir's hand and clasped it on before he brushed his lips against the little boy's forehead and stood up.

"Goodbye Archir, until next time." Faramir said softly.

"Bye Fay." Archir said, using the nickname that Boromir used for his little brother when telling Archir of his childhood. The brother of Boromir looked at Archir with stunned eyes before smiling gratefully and he left. Archir watched until he disappeared from view before going back into the room. Gandalf was awake right as he touched him and he rolled over to awaken Pippin. The men were murmuring how the Lord gave Faramir no rest at all now. The Riders of Rohan were not to be seen yet. Gandalf took Archir out of the room and allowed the child to wander the streets with him, though he kept his eye on his student. There were many people who found Archir to be an amazing thing. A toddler he was and one-of-a-kind.

Archir felt himself grow bored as he did nothing but get cooed at by ladies and looked down upon. His cloak was in the bedroom where his stuff were and he felt a longing to put his cloak back on. Gandalf picked him up and the child buried his head in the wizard's chest. It took three days before news came back of the Black Captain leading the enemy once again and passed over the River. Few went to rest, for small hope had any now that even Faramir could hold the fords for long. Archir grew irritated by the simplest thing and was actually beginning to act his age. He was tired of being looked down upon and he tried to control his bubbling annoyed emotions. The darkness had reached its full and grew no deeper, weighing heavier on men's hearts and a great dread was on them. Ill news came soon again. The passage of Anduin was won by the Enemy. Faramir was retreating to the wall of the Pelennor, rallying his men to the Causeway Forts; but he was ten times outnumbered.

"I am needed there more than here," Gandalf said and then he hesitated, looking at his young charge who looked back at him. The child looked determined and Gandalf knew he could not refuse, "and I will take my young student with me."

"What good comes from taking a toddler with you to battle?" Denethor asked haughtily.

"He has powers unseen and unheard of, that could possibly destroy our enemy. Though the ring exist, Archir is the child to destroy the ring's master at times," Gandalf warned and he lifted the boy up onto Shadowfax and hitched their bags next to him before he rode off, the glimmer of the two fading and leaving Pippin alone.

It was middle morning when Gandalf returned with a fast asleep toddler in his arms, he brought back a handful of horsemen who were wounded. He reported to the Lord of the City about what Faramir's status lay, holding his student (and frankly, his grandson) in his arms as he did so. Gandalf and Denethor exchanged talk before Gandalf went to put his student to bed. Evening drew by and the light was so dim that even far-sighted men upon the Citadel could discern little clearly out upon the fields.

When Archir awoke he heard many voices and he sleepily followed them. He found himself in the doorway of a the main area and someone was holding Faramir's body. Gandalf wasn't to be seen and Archir bit his cheek as Denethor commanded them to make a bed in the chamber and lay Faramir upon it. He could sense something was going to happen to the man and he followed them, using his invisibility to sneak in. He was unaware of what was happening outside, for he watched Denethor with wary eyes. Gandalf had already left, taking command of the last defense and Archir had told him he would stay this time.

Denethor stood after messengers brought word of the first circle of the City burning. Burning? He bid farewell to Pippin and this made Archir narrow his eyes. He pulled out his staff as they walked out of the White Tower and he followed them to the Withered Tree. Pippin ran off and Archir unveiled himself.

"No harm nor death will come to him, Denethor Lord of the City." Archir said in a dangerous tone, his eyes flashing. The man looked up.

"And who orders me to do so? A child barely passed of toddler years." Denethor huffed and he stood, looking at Archir with eyes that grieved. Eyes that hated. Archir stepped forward, ready to do what he needed to do to save the man who tried to do so much if only for his father's love, when the Great horns of the Northern wildly blew. Rohan had come at last.

"I may be a child of three going on four, but I believe a wise wizard told you before. Never underestimate a child." Archir said with a smirk as he raised his wand. Denethor looked back at him with angry eyes before he lashed out and Archir let loose a string of small orbs. He was unwilling to hurt the man, and even more unwilling to let Faramir get hirt in the line of fire. Denethor swung a punch at the child's head which made Archir duck.

So the battle had begun...

**Author's Note: Okay... Mirrors may not have been invented way back when, but in this story they were there. You guys depress me when I don't have as many reviews as I do from chapters before that were way shorter than the others. So review and I'll be super happy! Faramir and Boromir needed their moment, even if one is dead. I DID say Archir's precense changes quite a lot of things. I know it got confusing during this story. Beginning was a dream sequence, the ending was the battle in Chapter 4 of the Return of the King only with a few modifications. Hope that helps. I know that Denethor hitting a child is absurd. Hey, he's insane and evil, totally something he would do. Also, I keep accidentally putting Archir where Aragorn's name might belong. So if you see that, sorry bout that.  
**


	16. Most Dangerous Times

**Ring Child**

**by Kiamii**

**Chapter Sixteen "Most Dangerous Times"**

**Warning: Violence, "Child Abuse", Fighting, Mild Swearing, Fluff, Death, Emotions.**

**Note: I'm going all out on this chapter so be prepared for the battle.**

CRASH! SLAM!

Archir growled, his eyes narrowed as he concentrated on the fight at hand. Every second was another life out there being taken, while every second for him was a chance for this bastard to get a blow in at him. Denethor brought his fist down towards Archir's stomach and he blocked it with his arm, ignoring the bruising that came with him being a small child. The man aimed a kick and unfortunately it slammed into Archir's side, yet the boy did not go down. He spun around and shoved his elbow into the man's stomach, causing the Lord of the City to wheeze. Turning over to point his staff at the man, he found himself slammed up against a tree, his staff fallen to the ground.

Archir struggled, hating this man more and more.

CRACK! Archir felt his eyes disorientate for a split second before focusing. _Damn. Get a hold on yourself! _Archir mentally scolded himself. Think... Think... Archir's eyes drifted to see something and he smirked.

"Think your so tough you little shit," Denethor spat, spitting into Archir's face. The wizard looked at Denethor with flaring emerald eyes, causing the man's eyes to widen slightly before he brought his hand down hard onto the side of Archir's cheek, slapping the 3-year-old wizard around the lip, which cracked it from the blow and he began to bleed. Archir kicked the man in his sore spot and slammed his small hand down at the back of the man's head, poking the man in the eye before falling to the floor. He grabbed hold of his staff and held it at the man's throat.

"Don't move," Archir warned, flashing. He vaguely heard the shouts of men, meaning that Rohan had entered the city. He spun his staff in a circle and aimed a packed punch from the staff towards the man who stumbled. The man dodged and lunged again at Archir, who dodged. In the echoes of their battle, they heard trumpets blaring and did not let themselves be distracted. Archir felt his resolve weaken, having been hit to the head enough to cause probably a concussion.

_I can't do this anymore, there has to be some other way_ Archir panted in his mind. He looked at the man who was now bringing himself to stand. What to do? What could he do!?

"You're going to pay," Denethor growled as he launched at Archir once more. God, how many more times was he going to do that? Archir, feeling tired by the second, jumped up to get out of the way when he tripped. Denethor seized him around the waist and brought him up against a tree, keeping Archir's legs away from him. He hated this snot nosed kid who dared defy him and command him. The boy who dared be loved by so many, by his two sons! Denethor strengthened his hold on the boy and began to close his hands around the child's neck. As he did so, he kicked the child hard in the stomach and was in satisfaction as Archir coughed up blood. Served the brat right. He kicked the boy again, taking in pleasure as the kid cried out again. Denethor did frown when Archir's scream turned to raw agony and a powerful light burst from the scar and slammed into Faramir. He paid no attention to this, feeling that it had no real importance.

"Fa..the...r stop." A whisper came and Denethor could hear his barely alive son talk, but he ignored it as he saw Archir's eyes flutter, about to close as he began to lose air. Then he saw something from the kid's shirt. He loosened the grip and looked at it, his eyes widening. It was the pendant that was always on his son neck ever since he began to fight for his city, as a small boy. On the child's wrist was something always on Faramir. Why did this little shit have the two most beloved items that his two sons wore!? He had no right!

"You dare steal from my sons! You will die in the worst pain," Denethor raged, throwing Archir down harder than one slamming a body wrestler down. Archir gasped out and he gripped his staff and aimed at Denethor. Neither noticed the fire that was spreading around them, nor that Faramir's eyes were open weakly and watching. Archir vaguely heard the sounds of a song that Aragorn had once told him was of the Mounds of Mundburg.

"My Lord! Stop this madness that has overcome thou!" Beregond's voice broke through as he stood there in horror. Denethor did not listen, looking at Archir's staff with cold hard eyes. He had his hands still on the child's throat and was ready to let the wizard lose his last breath. Archir was breathing heavily. Denethor slapped Archir and the wizard struggled to stay awake. He was just a child. A child at heart and even at mind. A 17-year-old who shouldn't have ever been put through war. A 3-year-old who should have never left the care of the elves. A wizard from two worlds who was put through more than any could imagine. From the age of 15 months to the year of 17 he was someone different. He grew up an outcast, finding himself the hero, looked down upon, believed a liar, put under the spotlight for the return of evil... So much. Never given a break, he had been on the run and finally defeated the person who destroyed his first life's childhood. He was the freaking boy-who-lived. He would always be. He couldn't die and now he realized, as Archir, that he wouldn't die. He wanted to live! He had a family here and he would never give that up. A fire that was long ago diminished in his eyes, ignited and burned in a fiery passion that drew Denethor taken aback.

"I won't be dying today Denethor," Archir said in a cold hard voice that had only been heard from him that night Voldemort was killed. His eyes narrowed into slits and Denethor's eyes widened again, unable to move as Archir spoke in a voice that would bring even the Black Riders fleeing in terror, "You have harmed many. You have ruined the lives of hundreds and for that you will pay. Before you try to kill me, I'd advise you to think about what you've done... Think, and try for some remorse."

"What is this?" Denethor said in a cruel voice, "What is this trickery? This magic fooling advice?"

"It's your one last chance, it's all you've got left... I've seen what you'll be otherwise... Be a man... Try... Try for some remorse!" Archir said harshly, his eyes flaring as he remembered the words he had said to another evil, long ago. Denethor did not listen, tightening his hold on Archir's neck right as Gandalf and Pippin bursted through and gazed at them with Beregond in terror and fear for the child who brought hope in the places of dark.

"I shall be dying tonight, and I'll burn you with me," Denethor said as he punched Archir yet again. Archir, his eyes burning with raw anger, murmured the two words never before heard in this world, yet feared by many in another. The two words that killed so many. Archir only knew this was to protect the others for a fire here would forever burn in Faramir's heart. He knew he would not be feared, for this was what Denethor had wished, only he had wanted to kill two innocents along the way. Archir murmured the two words that would forever be in his heart for trying such an action.

"Avada Kedavra," Archir said, his heart growing heavy and he would forever remember those eyes turn lifeless as Denethor, the steward of the city, fell to the ground forever dead. Archir fell limp, panting and feeling the pain rush up to meet him as he knew nothing but adrenaline fading. He felt arms encircle around his waist and lift him up, wrapping around him to hold him to their chest. He felt the soft fabric of a cloak, the rustling of a gentle wind signifying the end of the battle. The arms kept hold of him firmly and felt affectionate and familiar. They were warm and his safe haven.

"Shhh littlun, I'm here. Your Papa is here. Shh," Gandalf's voice broke through and Archir looked painfully in the eyes of his mentor, searching for something. When he found what he had been looking for something he smiled weakly. He found in Gandalf's eyes, understanding and acceptance. For that had been what Archir had been hoping for instead of anger and hatred for him. Archir closed his eyes and dropped into bliss.

"Talk none until you report the condition of young Faramir. For Denethor has departed and he is now the Steward. None shall know Archir's part in what has taken place, for he did what Denethor had wanted to do any hows." Gandalf said softly. He held Archir close to him, running a hand through the long black hair, and carried Archir with him towards Faramir. To his amazement, Faramir's eyelids fluttered open, having closed before they arrived. Faramir looked around, confused. He looked at Gandalf and his eyes widened as he saw the blood covering the body of the child that was already in his heart.

"Archir has not perished where your father has. He is very much alive, just unconscious from a battle none shall ever need to go through, and he won." Gandalf said softly, though he did eye some of the extensive injuries on the boy's body. There was so much blood on the child that it would make most vomit or faint at the site. Gandalf adjusted Archir so that his head was against the elderly wizard's shoulder.

"How fare you Faramir?" Gandalf asked.

"Miraculously healed Gandalf the White. I had awakened naught this moment but earlier when my father tried to play hand in murdering Archir," Faramir said softly, "whilst I am saddened by my father's death, I am more relieved to see the child alive. Archir meant much to my brother, I could tell."

"Yes, he means most to us all," Gandalf said, "and it is with that I take leave. Come Faramir! We must head to the House of the Healing to tend to your injuries that you must also wear." Gandalf carried Archir with him to the House of Healing as Pippin went off to find Merry. When they reached the house of healing, they set Éowyn down upon a bed and later on Meriadoc joined them. Faramir was sent to bed rest for he burned with a fever that would not abate. Archir had yet to awaken and Gandalf undressed him from his wizardry robes, replacing his blood-soaked clothes with soft and elegant elven pajamas that were in Archir's pack. His wounds were tended to and his arm was wrapped, for Denethor had driven a swords towards the non-dominant hand of the wizard. When in the battle, they did not know for it was before Faramir had awaken.

"_The hands of the king are the hands of a healer_," Ioreth said with a weep. She wept for all that had taken place and as Faramir slept, she wept, for all the people loved him.

"Men may long remember your words, Ioreth! For there is hope in them," Gandalf said, "Maybe a king has indeed returned to Gondor; or have you not heard the strange tidings that have come to the City?" He looked over at her, an old wife and the eldest of the women who served in that house. Archir squirmed under his bedding as he slept on, feeling uneasy even in dreams. He would forever be horrified by his own actions and it would be up to the Company to help him move on, Gandalf mused. He saw Aragorn reach the room.

"Yet you forget the last known words. _And so shall the rightful king be known_." Gandalf said as Aragorn entered with the others. Aragorn looked at the body of Archir with concern fluttering his face and he strode over to the child before he sank down and caressed the child's cheek.

"My poor young child, my son." Aragorn whispered.

"He has taken many grave strikes to his young body, so his recovery will not come for awhile," Gandalf admitted. Aragorn nodded and placed a kiss upon the brow of the boy he considered a son, before he went with Gandalf. When he had supped, many came to him with prayers that he would heal their kinsmen or friends whose lives were in peril through hurt or wound, or who lay under the Black Shadow. And Aragorn arose and went out, and he sent for the sons of Elrond, and together they labored far into the night. And went through the city: "The King has come again indeed." They named him Elfstone, because of the green stone that he wore, and so the name which it was foretold at his birth that he should bear was chosen for him by his own people. When he could labour no more, he cast his cloak about him, kissed the child that he loved most dearly on the cheek, and slipped out of the City, going to his tent just ere dawn and he slept for a little.

He was unaware of the turmoil that was surrounding the child. Archir found himself in the midst of something he'd never expect. He was seeing Frodo... and Sam. They were cloaked in Orc-clothing and reminded him long ago of something that he had been dealing with. The need to go on. The friendships shared... Ron and Hermione with him in that ruddy old tent, wondering what the horcux could be every time.

"Frodo... Sam..." Archir called out, wondering if they could hear him. He saw them whirl around to his surprise and their eyes widened as they saw the boy who was older than before. He looked roughly in his teen years. He had shoulder-lengthened hair and his emerald green eyes yes, but the lightning bolt scar was bolder than ever and he wore black robes outlined in red and gold, a crest on his breast pocket. He had the staff of Archir the Emerald and he looked like the older version of the toddler.

"Archir? No... you were but a toddler when we had last seen you," Sam said weakly. Archir looked down at himself and sure enough, he was a teenager again. Wow... Archir couldn't think of any reason for him being like this all of a sudden. He lifted a foot and could see he was just like he had been before he had become Archir.

"Yeah... I don't know why. I remember... being in Gondor and then... I fell asleep and now I'm here?" Archir said lamely. He looked at Sam and Frodo and strode over to them. He knelt down and held the tip of his wand to Frodo's chest and murmured a few select words under his breath before Frodo blinked and sat up, filled with an energy he hadn't held since leaving the Company. Archir then scooped the hobbit up and lifted him on his back.

"And to think I'm the one who could carry you," Frodo said with a weak grin. Archir laughed, smiling at the hobbit who took care of him through the journey.

"So how is everyone?" Sam asked as he walked beside them, the three traveling up and heading towards Mount Doom. Archir was able to cast an invisibility over the three of them, marveling in how his powers had grown to withstand most desires he needed to cast. Archir looked at Sam's tired look, showing that the two hobbits had journeyed more than many could have guessed. They were weighed down with the pressure of the ring, the pressure of endless land of nothingness.

"Papa misses you two and he got real upset to hear the path you took after leaving Faramir," Archir said and Sam looked at him with raised eyebrows.

"Papa?" Sam inquired.

"Gandalf," Archir corrected and he felt Frodo stiffen and Sam stop in shock.

"B-But..." Sam began and Archir cut him off.

"He wasn't dead. After you guys left me," Archir began, "Papa found me there and told me the Valar sent him back. He's Gandalf the White now. I traveled with him and so far, I was in Gondor with him. Boromir is gone though..." There was a humble silence from that and Archir and Sam walked with Frodo feeling much better than before.

"You know, you look much different older and in your tweens." Sam said with a small grin. Archir grinned back.

"I guess I do. You guys have only ever known me as the little toddler who was constantly asleep," Archir mused out loud dryly. Sam chuckled and they arrived at the one place dreaded by man. The place of hell and the place where it would end soon. Mount Doom. Archir helped Frodo off his back and the two hobbits walked ahead of him. Archir looked around, wary that something was following them. The invisibility had already worn off, so they'd have to tread carefully. A movement in the shadows caught Archir's attention and he walked forward, making sure the hobbits went without him right now. He headed towards the rustling creature and found the wretched little urchin that was so much like Kreacher, Gollum. Gandalf, before they went into Moria, had told him that Smeagol had been following them for awhile in the journey and Archir wondered how long the former hobbit had stalked them.

"Gollum," Archir said coldly, "That which you follow is with revenge or with something else, I do not know. State your want." Gollum looked at Archir with hateful eyes and he was muttering to himself.

"He seeks to stopped us, my precious." Smeagol whimpered and his eyes turned darker for a second and Archir watched this happen.

"He is evil, like the hobbitses, yess. _Gollum_." The hobbit growled back at himself... Archir felt that this hobbit was one step too crazy and positioned his wand on the urchin. Gollum looked at it with wide, cursed eyes.

"You've lived a life that I would never want any to live. Under the influence of the ring far too long. My mentor may have told me that death sometimes isn't worth it, but I feel that you've suffered too much," Archir said softly and Gollum looked like he was about to kill the wizard, but Archir quickly stunned him and painlessly sent an Avada Kedavra at Gollum. The creature died emotionless, painlessly, and rather quick. Archir felt that though the kill was easy, his heart was growing heavier. He had killed two people now... Archir had seen into the eye long ago and not only had he found memories, he had found events that would take place if he wasn't there. Archir mused that Frodo would rather prefer all ten fingers so this would be for the better... right?

Archir ran back over to the two hobbits who were unaware, and he panted only slightly. Some of his injuries from his child body were hidden on him probably. Now that he thought about it, he was projecting himself here... something Gandalf had said was possible in the case of Wizards. Archir shook his head and followed the hobbits into Mount Doom. Frodo held the ring out and Archir watched as Frodo began the struggle. The conflict between himself.

"Fight it Mr. Frodo!" Sam cried out as Frodo struggled to drop the ring. Archir could see the influence of the ring and the heart of Frodo fighting. The ring, filled with tainted evil that could break even the most strongest, was an Imperio act. Archir suddenly knew that as a teenager, he wasn't much of an impact on this situation. That was why the Valar had created him as a child. As a child, you were pure of heart and influenced a situation like no adult could. You were the symbol of hope that so many sought for. Fought for. Children saw things that others couldn't. They could see the light of the dark. A child holds an innocence that only they could hold. They saw the situation for something entirely different. With these thoughts, Archir closed his eyes and Sam looked at him to see him shrink down in body and his robes turned emerald again. His features of a child came back and the Istari looked at Frodo now, who could finally see him. His eyes had widened and the ring seemed to glow. Archir drew his hand to the lightning bolt. He understand now. He was what you could say the Ring Child. He influenced everyone by being himself, what no one else could be. He was protected by all and he was a power like no other. He held within himself that power that Albus Dumbledore told him before. Love.

"Fro... You can do it. Believe in yourself. If not for yourself then for me. Believe that by ridding yourself of the ring, you'll be able to see everyone again." Archir pleaded, hearing his childish voice once more. Frodo's hand began to turn over, looking like it would drop into the lava. Archir knew you could not force him to do so. The hand began to turn back up, as though fighting again

"I love you Fro. I love you like an older brother. Someone who watches over me and takes care of me. Remember when I first met you? Back at the Shire? You remember that, don't you?" Archir said loudly at first, then drawing quieter. Sam had a lump in his throat. Archir looked at Sam who weakly smiled again, encouraging Archir to continue. The Ring child took a breath, drawing on his own powers to keep going. What he was saying was from his heart and meant for Frodo to hear.

"Sam loves you not as his master or as a leader, but as your friend. Pippin and Merry miss you so much too. Gandalf would want to see you again," Archir said softly and Frodo looked at Archir, tears in his eyes and it was a moment too late before the hobbit realized that the ring now slid out of his hand (his palm turned fully over) and the ring fell into the pit of Mordor, the influence it held overcome by love just as Voldemort had done so. A scream like no other fell upon their ears and they stood there before Frodo walked slowly over to Archir, looking down at the little boy who meant so much to him like he loved Bilbo Baggins. He dropped to his knees and encircled his arms around the child's waist, pulling him to his chest. Frodo hid his face in the boy's hair and shook with tears. He wept for the end of it all. He wept for the war that had gone on, the death of many. Archir had his own arms around Frodo's chest and he smiled sadly. For now, he had overcome two wars and survived. He was content with that.

Archir began to fade and it was Sam who noticed. He gasped.

"Archir!" Sam cried out and Frodo looked up and cried as well.

"It's alright. I'll see you again. Just get out of here soon, Gandalf will find you. I'm unconscious in Gondor still I think. I love you two." Archir said softly, smiling at the two hobbits before he closed his eyes and allowed himself to fade away from Mordor. Away from where it all started with Sauron and ended with his demise. The sound of the eye screaming began to grow on deaf ears and it was with that thought that Archir knew no more.

**Author's Note: So... How did I do? This has got to have been my HARDEST chapter to ever write considering I have hardly ever written about violence. I'm a fluff writer, so this was my biggest challenge ever. I hope you guys all likes it. Yes Archir goes into a dream mode because he was projecting himself towards Mount Doom. You guys surprised at some of the stunts I pulled in this chapter? I had a lot of fun trying to tie up loose ends. Don't worry, this isn't the last chapter. In fact, this is only the climax and beginning of another section opening up for Archir! Woot! I know killing Gollum seemed heartless but, I wasn't in the mood to let the guy eat Frodo's finger! I TOTALLY know that some of these "bad words" weren't even invented way back then but hey... It's my story right? Speaking of Which;**

**Disclaimer: I'm not a guy and I'm no blond girl so these two fandoms belong to Tolkein and Rowling respectively. The fiction plot of Istari Child is however mine.**


	17. Welcoming

**Ring Child**

**by Kiamii**

**Chapter Seventeen "Welcoming"**

_**"For the Quest is achieved, and now all is over. I am glad you are here with me. Here at the end of all things, Sam" - LOTR, ROTK pg 1238**_

"Archir..." A voice gently breaks through. Who was Archir? They needed to listen to the voice so he could go back to sleep. A finger poked him in the side and he curled up. Nooooo! He didn't want to get up from the terribly soft bed. He burrowed his head deeper into the pillow, feeling rather relaxed and comfortable. Why couldn't this person see that he wanted sleep? He heard shuffling nearby and a chuckle from another voice.

"You make such a monster, forcing him out of bed after all that, Love," Yet another voice said softly with amusement in the voice. It sounded... feminine? So there were three people in the room, the two males set on waking him up. How rude! He turned over slightly and felt something pull the warm covers off him. He shivered and blindly reached out for the warmth to return. A hand ruffled his hair fondly and he couldn't stop the whine from escaping him as they rubbed his shoulder, intent on getting him out of bed.

"He can handle it. Come on kiddo. Archir, you know you need to wake up," The first voice broke through. Great, this person wouldn't let him sleep now. He wearily opened his eyes and then blinked as it all came back to him. Oh yeah, he was Archir the Emerald. He always had these moments every now and then. Still, he rather liked sleeping in for once thank you! Archir glared at Aragorn, descendant of Isildur, who grinned at him and pulled Archir into his arms. Archir dropped his glare and wrapped his arms around the man, keeping his head resting against the man's shoulder as Aragorn rubbed the back of his head gently, his lips pressed to the top of his head.

"You sure have grown little one. Since thirteen months have passed when the hobbits and yourself began to travel, I should think you are now of four summers finally," Aragorn commented, pushing the black bangs out of Archir's face, "and that scar is fading at last." Archir looked at Aragorn before smiling. Archir was happy to find that he was not a toddler anymore, but a child at the very least. He wasn't a 3-year-old finally, but he was four.

"I've missed you, daddy. But would you mind telling me where I am? How long I have slept?" Archir said, remembering the title he had dubbed this man. Aragorn brightened at it and then he turned Archir to rest his back on his chest, Aragorn's chin on his head.

"You are in Ithilien and it has been sixteen days since the fall of Sauron and when you fell unconscious kiddo, now I want you to meet someone who I've hardly gotten the opportunity to introduce you to back in Rivendell. This is Elrond's daughter, Arwen, and my love." Aragorn said and a woman stepped in front of him. Archir blinked, looking at her with his emerald eyes. She was a fairly beautiful elf, an angelic smile upon her pale and graced face.

"Hello there Archir the Emerald, student of Gandalf and heart of Middle Earth," She laughed softly. Archir looked at her in confusion. Heart of Middle Earth? Aragorn saw the look and he laughed as well, further evoking a frown on the boy's face.

"It's a new title that was gifted to you upon finding out that you managed to appear in Mount Doom next to Frodo and Sam." Aragorn said with a grin, kissing the crown of the boy's head. Archir sighed, yet another title, but this one made him feel... Flattered? Honored? He couldn't tell.

"So Legolas and Aragorn had a sudden idea and they wanted to know if you would agree," Arwen said with a sly smile. Aragorn shot her a mock glare which produced giggles from the child on his lap. Legolas entered the room upon hearing his name. He knelt down in front of the child.

"Since Gandalf is your mentor and by any standards, you are his heir and student; We were wondering..." Legolas began, hesitating. Aragorn bit his cheek to keep from frowning. Archir looked at Legolas curiously.

"They wanted to both adopt you, for you to be the heir of both Mirkwood and Rivendell. The grandson of Elrond and Thranduil as well as the son of Aragorn and Legolas." Arwen cut in and both males glared causing her to smile. Archir looked at them, frozen. His mind was spinning with thoughts. In his mind jumped up memories of his time with these two men, his dreams of some of the future. He remembered a nightmare creeping up at him and calling Aragorn 'daddy' for the first time. He remembered the same for Legolas. These two men were indeed like his fathers, one an elf and the other half-elven.

At last a smile graced his lips and he looked at Legolas who looked at him with anxiety. The whole room was quiet, awaiting the answer that he would bring forth.

"I think I'd like that," Archir said to the silence. There was a moment, before Legolas and Aragorn burst into wide grins and the Istari child was being hugged rather tight, causing him to let out a small 'eep'. He wriggled as the two arms were kept around his waist. He took the time to note that he was wearing black shorts and a white shirt, barefooted. His hair was let out as well. Around his ankle and one of his arm was a bandage, for he remembered that he had been stabbed in the arm and his ankle was twisted because of all that slamming. Feeling under his shirt slightly, he could feel another bandage and just above his eye. Jeez, he must have been a mess when they found him.

"You two are probably adding to his injuries," Arwen said with a quirked eyebrow. The two men abruptly stopped and Aragorn checked Archir over like some sort of mother hen, to the other occupants' amusement. Aragorn noticed and looked at them sheepishly, though he kept his hold of Archir, mindful of the injuries at the very least.

"Hand over Archir, _Estel_. You, my king, have a coronation to hold with in a few hours." Legolas reminded him as he took Archir from the man. Aragorn glared at the childhood name he grew up with (for Legolas and he had been friends as children) ,as well as the mention of his coronation, and then stood up.

"Coronation?" Archir asked curiously. The word was unfamiliar to him and he wondered what on earth it could be.

"My ceremony to become king of Arnor and Gondor as well as the High King of the Reunited Kingdom is today... I was hoping you'd be awake for it." Aragorn said, flashing him a smile as he ruffled the boy's hair fondly.

"Speaking of which, Elrond and my own father are here, so you'll be meeting them soon." Legolas told Archir who looked at them in surprise.

"Also, since I have taken you on as my son, Arwen would be... your mother," Aragorn said, blushing slightly. Arwen graced him with a kiss and looked at Archir, kneeling down elegantly and taking a hand in her own. Archir found the elf-woman very pretty and he stared at her for a minute or two, mesmerized, before smiling at her. She was someone that reminded him of Lily Potter, though he did not know why. Perhaps it was that kindness in her eyes, or the grace that she held. Whatever it was, he accepted her and took an immediate liking to her.

"So you'd be my Mama?" Archir asked in happiness, already dubbing her the title the minute she nodded. Legolas and Aragorn were grinning brightly, happy that everything was going better than expected. Archir reached out his other hand and she laughed before picking up the small boy and hugging him to her, his head now against her shoulder. She moved her hand to rest at the back of his head and Archir closed his eyes, content. This was what it felt like, to have a mother and a family. Her hand felt like it belonged there, and he relaxed immensely in her arms. She held him softly yet firmly, a loving and graceful kind of way in her air.

"Come on love. We have some family to introduce him to," Aragorn said softly and Arwen stood Archir up on the bed, kissed his cheek, and left as Legolas and Archir opened a wardrobe which was filled to the brim and Archir blinked as he saw the sheer amount of clothes for him in there, including shoes and hats as well as the added accessories. There was everything from even mithril to man-made to elven. He could see his emerald wizardry cloak but not just that, half the clothes had something that represented him as a wizard was on it. Legolas dug through the clothes as Aragorn undid the shirt and helped Archir undress before the two men had the boy clothed like a prince, to their amusement.

"You're now a Prince you know," Legolas informed him as Archir looked at his appearance with a raised eyebrow. He had on long black trousers that were rather soft along with a short sleeved beige shirt, a black vest over it that buttoned. On his feet were black shoes and his hair was pulled back with a small braid added in courtesy of Legolas. Archir looked at them as if to ask them why. They did not answer him and instead opted to just grin knowingly. The amount of the clothes in the room was, though Archir was clueless as to why, because Faramir had planned to have Archir over as a visitor whenever the boy wished. Aragorn had already given Faramir the Princedom of Ithilien.

"Come now, we must be going," Aragorn chuckled and he lifted Archir up into his arms and settled him on his hip as Archir grasped his staff in his hands. It had changed, Gandalf had told them, because of the deeds done by Archir the Emerald. It was longer and pitch black with an emerald stone at the top, surrounded by silver leaves and small birds. All around the staff was embedded emeralds of their own. Archir could still feel the phoenix feather inside the wand, yet he knew it was not the wand he had in his old world anymore. It felt... different. In fact he also felt unalike than before. For one thing, he was stronger and more balanced. Unlike the emotional fighting teenager he had been, he was now a child who had gone through many things, yet still had his heart set on the right path now.

They went out of the room as Aragorn filled Archir in on all that he had missed as he and Legolas saddled up and placed Archir in Aragorn's arms before riding off into the lands and straight to Minas Tirith after they ate. Theoden had died in battle and Eomer was the one to step up in his place, for Theodred had died upon the sight of his father, and had taken down as many Orcs as he could with him to death. Frodo and Sam had awaken three days earlier and informed them all about Archir's little adventure. It had amazed them all because Archir's body had been taken to a private room and guarded. Everyone knew that the little boy had been unconscious in the room the whole time, until they heard he had somehow made himself appear in Mount Doom. Thus the name Heart of Middle Earth came about, simply because Archir had given hope to Frodo when he had been about to give up. They reached Minas Tirith fairly soon, for the horses rode with a speed that few could see them. Aragorn slid off the horse with Archir in his arms once again as they walked into a room. Archir looked around, seeing that there were many people who looked upon him with a smile of their own. He bit his lip and decided not to say anything, finding this sort of attention rather refreshing compared to glares and hero-worshipping that he got in his old world. Aragorn kept his arms around Archir's waist as the child was kept on his hip. Archir leaned his head against the man's shoulder as they made it to a wide room and in it were many elves of both Lothlorien, Mirkwood, and even Rivendell. Archir could see Arwen next to an elf that Archir had met long ago, before the real journey of the Fellowship had begun. Elrond... And next to the two were twin elves that Archir had never met, yet they looked to be the sons of Elrond. Legolas smiled and went over to another elf, who liked very much alike to Thranduil.

Aragorn walked over to Elrond who turned and smiled warmly at the little wizard in Aragorn's arms. Archir gave him a shy smile as the Rivendell elf took him from Aragorn and held him in his own arms. Archir had a feeling that his feet would hardly be touching the grounds tonight...

"Hello child," Elrond greeted. He held an aura around him that commanded yet bid to you. He was a strength of his own and held a gentle feeling to him.

"Archir, this is my father Lord Elrond, though you may call him what you wish," Arwen said softly, placing a hand on the child's cheek. Archir leaned into the touch, feeling content. He kept his small hands gripping Elrond's soft shirt. He felt nothing but love from them all, and the thought was pleasant. Though, Archir amused, how many more elves was he going to be related to now that Aragorn was his daddy and Legolas was his Ada.

"How about grandfather? Or Granddad?" Archir suggested, smiling as Elrond chuckled at the title, nodding his head. Arwen laughed as well and kissed her soon to be son on the cheek, for (though Archir had no clue) a ceremony would be intertwined with the coronation tonight. Elladan and Elrohir looked at Archir with mischievous eyes, seeing that the child would soon be their nephew.

"And you, my dear Archir -" Elladan began, causing the boy's head to turn.

"May dub us your Uncles." Elrohir said and the two swept themselves into a bow, grinning at the child who was now giggling softly.

"Introducing Uncle Elladan," Elrohir continued, introducing himself as his brother.

"and Uncle Elrohir." Elladan finished, grinning at their trick. Archir looked at them curious for a second before he smiled in a fond manner, as though in memory.

"Uncle Elladan," Archir said, pointing at Elladan to the twins' shock, "and Uncle Elrohir," he said, pointing to the other. Elrond burst out laughing, though an unkingly thing to do, he found the whole thing quite hilarious. For few could tell the twins apart. Arwen laughed as well, though she strained it. Elladan plucked the little boy out of his father's arms and threw him slightly in the air, catching him and sitting down with Elrohir, putting the child between them.

"I met a pair of twins who did the same thing before," Archir explained, wriggling as they would not let him up. Elladan and Elrohir looked heart stricken that their trick was not original. Elrohir pushed a finger into the side of Archir's chest, mindful of the injury, and grinned quite evilly when Archir let out an indignant squeak. Before Archir could comprehend it, he was being laid on his back on Elladan's lap and Elrohir began to tickle him mercilessly. He squirmed about, laughing uncontrollably.

"Do you yield, nephew?" Elrohir asked, pushing his fingers this way and that, watching as the tiny boy moved about to escape, giggling nonstop. Elladan kept his arm looped around the child's waist, keeping him from falling yet keeping him captive. Arwen sighed, smiling at her two older brothers, and walked over to them.

"N-Never!" Archir gasped out, "Mama! Save me!" He managed to say before Arwen pinched Elrohir's ear and scooped the little boy up into her arms, keeping his head against her shoulder by holding her hand to the back of his head. Archir panted for a moment to regain his breath, though he was grinning. He breathed in relief and calmed down against her shoulder, keeping his arms around her neck. Arwen smiled lovingly at him, already filling in the mother part splendidly. Maybe because she was an elf-lady? Archir did not know nor did he care why. Aragorn's arms wound around the two of them and he was smiling, his eyes somewhat closed as two other elves walked over to them. Arwen was now turning him around in her arms and handing him off to another who held him gently, as though afraid he would break or something. Archir blinked at the unfamiliar arms and found himself staring up at an elf that could only be Legolas' father.

"So this is the famed Istari of Arda," Thranduil chuckled as Legolas ran a hand through the boy's hair. Archir looked at the Mirkwood King curiously.

"Archir, this is my Ada and your new Daerada." Legolas said with a smile. Archir blinked for a moment or two. Daerada was elven for Grandfather, like Ada was elven for Father. Archir looked into the eyes of Thranduil silently, searching his eyes before he found what he was looking for. He smiled and allowed himself to be adjusted to settled upon his hip. Legolas placed a kiss upon his son's forehead and went out of the room. Soon, you could hear Gimli's loud voice arguing that he could beat Legolas in a drinking competition any day.

"Never would I have guessed that a dwarf would be friends with an elf... willingly. Yet my son manages to make the thought a reality," Thranduil murmured as he rubbed his hand in circles on Archir's back. The child said nothing, smiling knowingly as the elf stood there in contentment to hold the child in his arms. Archir had found this with many elves. To hold a child was something of magnificent for children were hard to come by because of immortality. The fact that Archir was the only one to ever be born with magic and be born into the group of Istari kind, made him some sort of symbol to all. Archir's eyes fluttered and he wriggled to be let down, yet Thranduil would not relent and instead passed him on to Elrond.

"Elessar and Legolas found it to be greatly important that you not touch the ground tonight, for your foot is still on the mend. I will take you to see Frodo." Elrond commented lightly as he adjusted his hold on the Istari child and carried him out of the family of elves and down a hall. He saw, to his great joy, Frodo and the other hobbits sitting outside by a tree. Even better was Gandalf next to them.

"Papa! Frodo! Sam! Pip! Merry!" Archir said loudly and he smiled widely when they turned around to notice him. Pippin gave a loud whoop as the hobbits all ran forward to greet him. Gandalf rose slowly and walked over to the two, following the hobbits with a great amount of amusement. Elrond gave the boy up to Gandalf who swung him around and knelt down so that he could be next to Frodo as they sat down. Frodo pulled him into a long hug, before Sam took over and Pippin and Merry joined in. Archir laughed and leaned against Frodo when that was done, happy to see the four hobbits again, for their travels had been long and tiring for each and the five had set out from the Shire together all those months ago.

"Are you excited for the Coronation?" Pippin asked curiously and Archir looked at him with a nod, though curious. Why wouldn't he be? Aragorn was becoming a king! Archir noticed Merry elbow Pippin in the side and he narrowed his eyes slightly.

"Why wouldn't I be?" Archir asked with an innocent smile that he could have sworn caused Frodo to silently laugh at Pippin from behind him.

"I... er... because..." Pippin stammered, unsure how to continue.

"Well Strider is becoming a king and all," Sam piped in and Pippin sighed in relief, to Archir's amusement. He decided to let the matter drop and he let Frodo wrap his arms around him, pulling him to his chest. The wind blew softly and rustled their hair, making Archir sigh in contentment. Pretty soon hours of chattering later and Gandalf was carrying Archir back to his permanent room. Archir noticed this for he saw that the walls were a dark green and floor was a dark brown wood. There was a large bed in the center back and a large wardrobe was in the left front, next to a window-seat that could oversee the front of the building. There was a shelf in the right back and left back, a door to a bathroom beside the left back shelf. A shelf was built above the bed and small figurines were stacked along it. Gandalf set Archir on the bed and he changed the child's outfit for his emerald robes, only this time, he added something that provoked Archir's curious staring. A silver and gold chain was now embedded and intertwined within the rims of his robes. They glittered when hit in the light and hid when in shadow. His emerald robes were also a shade darker and yet they were lighter. Archir looked at Gandalf for an explanation.

"You will find out why in a few moments littlun. For now we have a ceremony to start," Gandalf laughed and he picked Archir up, the elderly Istari cloaked in his own white robes and he carried the child out of the room, the both of their staffs lay in the room guarded and protected. Archir allowed Gandalf to take him outside and Archir stared as he suddenly noticed that millions of people (all of the citizens probably) were in front of him, staring... in their direction! Archir shyly hid his face into the side of Gandalf's robe as the elder wizard chuckled and walked slowly over to Aragorn who was next to Gimli who held out a cushion that held not just one crown, but a smaller one that was different that the other. The larger one was shaped like the helms of the Guards of the Citadel, save that it was loftier, and it was all white, and the wings at either side were wrought of pearl and silver in the likeness of the wings of a sea-bird, for it was the emblem of kings who came over the Sea; and seven gems of adamant were set in the circlet, and upon its summit was set a single jewel the light of which went up like a flame.

The other crown was of something that none could guess its beauty. It marveled in mystery and was crafted in a similar shape, yet there were wings all around the crown, shaped to be round crosses and in the center of the top pieces on each were emeralds. Silver flowers adorned the sides of the crosses and the front of the crown held naught an ordinary emerald, but one shaped to be a circular ring design in embedded in the crown. The whole thing was of silver and possibly mithril and held a significant meaning. Unity.

Archir could only stare as he saw Frodo beside the crowns and the crowd were all watching as Faramir came over to them. Words were exchanged in which Aragorn gave the office of steward back to Faramir and the man held up the crown and Aragorn faced him once more. He offered that Frodo pass the crown to Gandalf and only then would he accept it. Faramir nodded, smiling, and he took Archir into his arms as Frodo picked up the crown and carried it over to Gandalf who held it in his hands high and lowered it upon the head of the new King who had knelt down. Gimli was grinning and Archir smiled as well, watching as Aragorn turned to the crowd with an accepting expression.

"Behold the King!" Faramir said loudly and it was chorused as trumpets sounded and Faramir adjusted Archir slightly, the crowd bowing low to their new king of Gondor. Archir looked around as he noticed some all looking at him now. He blinked before he felt Faramir place his hands under his arms and pass him over to Aragorn who accepted the child into his arms and held him in his arms and on his hip, looking at Archir with a warm and comforting smile as Arwen and Elrond came up towards them. Aragorn held out a hand and Elrond placed his daughter's hand into his. It was a sign to show that Elrond approved of the marriage. The two shared a passionate kiss as Gandalf married King Elessar and his newly wed wife, Queen Arwen who was also Evenstar. Archir wondered why he was still in Aragorn's arms when Legolas and his own father walked up to them and the crowd seemed to be holding their breath.

"Archir," Aragorn said and Archir's attention focused on the man, "from meeting you to wishing to protect you, I have always thought of you as my son. Dawn's conversation told us that you gave consent to be the heir and son of both Legolas and I." Archir nodded to show that he understood and was listening. Legolas took over the conversation.

"For that, we have decided to add to the Coronation. This is not just a wedding and King's ceremony, but an adoption for it to be official. From the Valar's message, according to Gandalf, you are more than just our son now. You are a prince. For that, do you accept?" Legolas asked and Archir thought about, his mind whirling with overwhelming emotions. He frowned little and paused before he, still not speaking, nodded slowly.

"I accept," He finally stated warily and breathed as Aragorn set him on his feet, mindful of the ankle, and Gandalf knelt down. Archir was now facing the crowd who were all staring at Archir with amazement, happiness, and approval. Behind him were Gandalf, Thranduil, and Elrond all holding a side of the small crown and lowering it before Archir felt it touch his hair and rest upon his head. His eyes widened a second or two as he felt a surge of energy he had never felt before. He felt happy, strength, love, and every positive emotion that could possibly ever exist. The citizens and all whom attended saw a faint emerald and white glow emitted from the child before the closed eyes opened once more and Archir smiled. There was something different about his smile this time. It was one that would make all around him smile as well, a contaminated one. Aragorn picked him back up and Legolas had an arm around Archir as well as the two shared a grin.

"Behold the Prince of Arda!" The two newly dubbed fathers shouted and there was only a pause before the crowd erupted into applause and of agreement, echoing the title. Archir blushed, his heart feeling lighter than it had ever been before. He looked into the faces that currently surrounded him and saw nothing but fondness and love directed towards him. Some of them were crying. Naught from sadness nor anger, but from happiness and joy. He was now not just Archir the Emerald, but Archir, son of Legolas and Aragorn. The thought was rather appealing and now it was official.

That night was one to celebrate as Archir sat with his new fathers and mother during a feast, laughing and talking. He ate as much as he could, which wasn't much to their chagrin, and conversed with Legolas about this and that. He didn't notice he nodded off until he fell asleep, leaning against his new mother who pulled him onto her lap and caressed his cheek. She finished up before standing and holding Archir in her arms in a lying position, carrying him over to her father who graced his new and only grandson with a kiss upon the forehead, followed by Thranduil repeating the action. They all shared a smile as Archir yawned a little and rolled over in her arms, facing her and resting against her shoulder.

"One so young can bring the light of the dark," Elrond said with a smile.

"He's a flame upon a candle then," Aragorn added as Legolas and he came over to them. They both wore their own crowns, Legolas wearing his that showed him the prince of Mirkwood. The group made quite a site, all wearing a crown because of royalty. Elrond bore one for King of Rivendell, his daughter wearing one for Queen of Gondor and before that had been the Lady of Rivendell. Thranduil held a crown upon his head for King of Mirkwood and Archir and Aragorn kept theirs on. Aragorn gazed upon Archir's crown, smiling at the sight of Archir's sleeping face.

"Did anyone happen to say where Archir's crown kindled from?" Elrond asked finally.

"It was made at Gandalf's hand, helped by the Valar. His crown is possibly the richest of treasures to ever be found in Arda," Legolas said with a grin. Archir's small hand moved to his mouth and he began to suck his thumb, a habit never gone yet. The action made Aragorn chuckle softly. The group walked down the hall and into the nursery where the large bed for Archir was held. Legolas pulled the bed blankets back as Arwen placed the child on the bed and Aragorn was the one to cover him up. The two newly dubbed grandfathers left the room as Frodo, Sam, Pippin, Gimli, Merry, Eomer, and Faramir entered. The room was rather large, considering they were not crowded at all as they all gathered around. Arwen smiled at them all. Eowyn, the lady of Rohan now, was not with them at the moment for she was busy in conversations with other people, getting to know as many as she could.

"I'm thinking of taking Eowyn's hand in marriage, Eomer," Faramir said to the King of Rohan. Eomer studied Faramir with narrowed eyes before he blinked and looked at him with lighter eyes.

"As the Lady of Rohan she is, this would bond Gondor, Ithilien, and Rohan together. I would approve, as King of Rohan. As her brother, I'll pull forth my sword once more and hit you with it should you break my little sister's heart," Eomer joked and smiled in all seriousness. Pippin and Merry grinned widely and clapped the relieved Faramir on the back. They turned their attention back to the child who slept soundly through this all.

"So Archir will be staying with you?" Frodo asked Aragorn and Arwen. Aragorn shrugged somewhat and looked at Legolas.

"Of course he will stay with King Elessar and Queen Evenstar. Though I expect to have him in my care when Gimli and I finish our own journey. We made a deal to see the Glittering Caves AND Mirkwood," Legolas said and Gimli nodded, though he did not look too pleased at the last place. Aragorn chuckled and smiled. He turned to his wife who was watching Archir with loving eyes.

"A fine son you've picked," Arwen teased and Aragorn smiled before capturing his wife into a kiss, which caused small snickering from the group in the room. They all stopped when they heard whimpering.

"_No_... I'm sorry... No... You were going to kill him..._ Please_... Stop... I'm sorry..." Archir was murmuring under his breath and Faramir looked heartstricken.

"I should think that he is having a guilt dream," Faramir said and it was Frodo who leaned over and put a hand to the child's cheek, rubbing his thumb against it. Archir squirmed and thrashed slightly, turning.

"Shh Emeralds, everything is alright. It's not your fault." Frodo whispered softly and Archir's thrashing decreased as he leaned into the touch.

"Emeralds?" Aragorn mouthed to Frodo.

"His color," Frodo mouthed back and Aragorn thought for a moment before nodding, finding something rather settling with that new nickname for his adopted son. Archir rolled over in his sleep and dreamt peacefully once more as they shared a look and it was this time only Aragorn and Frodo who remained in the room.

"He's been through much," Aragorn said softly, placing a hand on the boy's chest, rubbing it soothingly. Frodo nodded.

"All of us have, but I feel that Archir dealt with more than we did, though I do not know what he has been put up against." Frodo responded.

"Our only hope is to protect him then," Aragorn said as his lips twitched upward and Frodo agreed silently. The two sat on the edge of each side of the bed, simply watching the child sleep and travel into each guilty dream through the night. Through this, they found some of Archir's fears. His hopes. His wants. They found the little boy in that mature side because when you dream, you show more than you ever know to the people who caringly watch.

They found the true Harry Potter. The _true_ child within him that night.

**Author's Note: Even I feel like falling over laughing if Archir said mommy for some reason (or mummy). It'd be just too weird for reasons I don't know. I hope you guys liked this scene. The people all seem somewhat out of character to you all only because hey, the war is over. They aren't going to be all that serious now that it is over, though they still have to go after the remaining Orcs. Legolas and Aragorn both wanted Archir as a heir/son so they got what they wanted. I was too lazy to use the accent marks on some of this, so deal with it. Sorry. I know I was being cruel again by killing Theodred after I let him survive but, what else could I do with the guy? I wanted to keep Eomer in as the one to take over. From here on out, the story will be closing very soon but the final conflict is something even I can't decide. I can write the scene out either way, but I need to choose. To go with the elves and Gandalf or to stay with Aragorn and the others? Review and add in your opinion, though I would need a reason why. I hope you guys enjoyed the whole "Family Gathering" for Archir. I wanted this moment for them to be good, so I worked on it all November break. Sorry if you guys wanted another story updated, but Ring Child has been by far my most successful story and most interesting. **

**Yawn! I spent ALL day writing this. I was just so captivated in getting it good. Not sure if I succeeded though. Next chapter comes the parting of the Fellowship and after that a few more chapters before its over. Sad news huh? Anyways, Review because I worked so hard on it for you guys! LONGEST chapter I have EVER written before. Cheers!**


	18. Lost

**Ring Child**

**by Kiamii**

**Chapter Eighteen "Lost"**

_I fear losing everyone I loved... I wish I could stay a kid forever and never leave... I want to be with them all, always... I'm scared that I'm a burden... I fear that I'm turning into a monster... I'm not good enough to be with them... What if they don't want me anymore? What if they leave me again? What if... What if they hate me or think I'm a burden. _Images of seeing Albus Dumbledore falling off the tower. Killing Denethor. Striking down Gollum. Seeing Cedric get hit. Ron running out of the tent and Hermione breaking down. Ginny's tearful face. Frodo being struck down by a Black Rider. Sirius falling through the veil. All his a burden. Just a small child who could do nothing but pester the lives of many. Destroying them. _No... No! NO!!_

"I'm sorry! I didn't mean to! Please... Please don't leave me!" Archir cried out, thrashing about. He began to rack with sobs, reaching his small hand out into the darkness for them to come back. His tiny fingers grasped nothing and he whimpered, feeling cold. He needed them. He wanted them. _Please. NO! Please don't leave! _His pleads did not form from his lips, instead his sobs grew louder as he was growing hysterical.

Arms encircled around his waist and drew him to a chest, a hand rubbing firm circles into his back. The person held him gently and comforting that Archir felt relief, yet he needed to make sure he wouldn't lose this comfort, this assurance.

"I'm sorry! P-Please don't leave. I-I'll be good," Archir sobbed into the chest, turning this way and that and crying hard, the nightmares still overcoming him. Part of this was remembering his Uncle Vernon towering over him, a belt in his hand... No... He was away from it. Yet he couldn't get rid of the thundering fear of lying there helplessly, bare and exposed in the chest as metal slammed against his back over and over, a sadistic laugh coming from his uncle. His words of him being a freak. Nothing but a useless burden. The strikes slamming his tender back. One after another. Nothing but pain. He deserved it though. He was a freak. Just a little freak who would never belong... "I'll be good!"

"Shh kiddo, daddy is here. It's alright. Hush now..." A soft voice whispered into his ear, the hot breath hitting him slightly, warming his soaked cheeks. Archir's eyes fluttered opened and he looked at him a moment before giving a shuddering gasp and he clung to his adopted father's chest, his small hands gripping Aragorn's night shirt firmly as the hands continued to rub circles, moving his shirt up and down, left to right. The familiar movement soothed him and Archir relaxed against the man, though he kept his hold on him. He feared that his daddy would leave him again, like that one time months ago. Standing there on the shore, watching as he drifted away. _No. Stop thinking about that. He won't leave you again, he promised._ Yet the childish voice in his head disagreed.

"His nightmares again?" Another voice inquired and Archir turned his head to see Legolas. Aragorn nodded and positioned himself so that his back was against the wall, Archir now fully in his lap as Legolas scooted over to the two. He smiled warmly at his son and placed his hand against Archir's cheek, frowning lightly when the child flinched. He continued rubbing the child's cheek for a moment and finally pulled back, which caused a sob to burst back from Archir's lips. He looked panicked for a second of two, to their surprise.

"Ada," Archir hiccuped, reaching a hand out for Legolas who took it and kissed the boy's knuckles, thumbing it to further assure Archir that he was here.

"Yes child, your Ada and Daddy are here. Try to go back to sleep," Legolas said softly and Archir nodded obediently, but did not make any move to go to sleep. Legolas looked at Aragorn who moved to place Archir back in his spot in the center of the bed. At first the little boy protested, whimpering and it took the two fathers time of soothing him to relax after he began whimpering. Eventually Archir allowed them as the covers were drawn over his small body before he heard humming. It was a song that Gandalf, Frodo, and a few elves had put together and that Aragorn and Legolas would sing it to him when he couldn't sleep. Because Gandalf helped, it was a song that Archir felt was familiar, probably because the wizard could drawn things from Archir's old world.

_When I see your smile,_

_Tears run down my face._

_I can't replace._

_And now that I'm strong, I have figured out,_

_How this world turns cold and it breaks through my soul._

_And I know I'll find deep inside me,_

_I can be the one._

Archir's eyelids fluttered closed and he let dreams of memories wash over him with relief. He yawned and burrowed deeper under the covers. He vaguely registered Legolas brushing a piece of his hair out of his eyes and him rubbing his shoulder as the prince of Mirkwood and king of Gondor continued singing. The song was low and soft, needing no guitar or instrument for their voices kept the beat smoothly. Aragorn's voice was deeper than Legolas, he absently noted as he drifted off.

_I will never let you fall. (let you fall.)_

_I'll stand up with you forever._

_I'll be there for you through it all. (through it all.)_

_Even if saving you sends me to heaven._

Aragorn watched as Archir fell fast asleep, his thumb in his mouth, his free hand gripped the end of his blanket to him. He placed a hand on the forehead of his son and smiled when Archir leaned into the touch. He sighed and remained sitting on the bed, Legolas on the other side of the sleeping little boy. They shared a look of understanding and sadness. A week had passed since the coronation and since the beginning of Archir's violent nightmares. Every night, either Frodo, Aragorn, Legolas, or Gandalf would be the one to awaken Archir out of these night frights and calm him down enough to go back to sleep. Everyday in the sunrise moments, they would constantly assure Archir that he was not a burden and that the would never leave him, that they loved him. Archir's nightmares frankly scared some of them, for one night during the week the little boy had awaken himself, screaming as if an unbelievable horror had been in front of him. Aragorn moved his hand to gently rest on Archir's chest, rubbing his hand back and forth slightly.

"Remember when we were younger, Estel?" Legolas asked, a sly smile on his face. Aragorn looked at the elf, wondering where this conversation was going.

"Considering you are an elf and years older than me, I don't remember much. How young was I, what you are thinking of?" Aragorn said with a smile of his own.

"You were a little bit older than Archir, yet you could never say your F's and V's correctly, and you always carried that cute little blanket of yours. What did you call it again?" Legolas teased, feeling the need to lighten the mood. Aragorn groaned softly so not as to wake their son. He thought back to the times when he was a small boy in Imladris. Back before he knew his name was Aragorn and had been calling Elrond, Ada. As Estel, he was rather carefree and loved by the elves. He never understood how he was human and his ada was an elf, yet he found out when he was around 12. He remembered Elladan and Elrohir teasing him and playing with him when they could. Aragorn flushed as Legolas pestered him again.

He mumbled something.

"I'm sorry, I couldn't hear that, _king_," Legolas said with a grin.

"Blankey..." Aragorn answered, his cheeks tinted pink as he said this with a straight face. Legolas chuckled and ducked a flying pillow at his face. He then faced Archir sleeping form and blinked a moment or two, studying the child's face. So innocent he was in his dreams, so much younger than he was. The two eventually kissed their son goodnight and left the room, making sure a candle was dimly lit before leaving.

The next day the rays of the sun beamed down into Archir's eyes from the partly open curtains. Archir slowly awoke and yawned cutely (a hand over his mouth) before he blinked and looked around his room. He loved his room, finding astonishment that it was his. No one else's room. His. Now that he had been here a week there were little things that could be noted as his personal belongings. His stuffed phoenix was sitting innocently on the dresser along with a few of the handcrafted toys and blocks that were brought from other people after his adoption. In fact, his room had all sorts of toys that Archir took a small joy in playing with during the day. He slid his small feet out of his bed and bit his lip before he left his bed unmade. The first few days, Aragorn had caught Archir always cleaning up after himself and doing things independently, so the king had said that until Archir was older, he should leave the cleaning to the cleaners and allow the various workers to help him, such as the minders to draw him a bath instead of trying to do so alone. The thought was embarrassing but, Archir later found it easier to deal with.

Archir looked up as Legolas came into the room.

"I see _pen-nin tithen_ is up," Legolas said. Archir smiled. The elf had taken to calling him many things in the elven language, such as just now that meant my little one. One of Archir's favorites was _ion nin_. It meant my son. Archir allowed Legolas to scoop him up into his arms and swiftly sit him on his bed as he pulled out a red shirt and black shorts.

"Do you know how to shoot a bow, _ion nin_?" Legolas asked with a smile. Archir looked at his ada with a curious expression. Warily, he shook his head and watched as the elf's smile got wider. Easily and with new experience, Legolas unbuttoned Archir's top and slid it off his chest before he replaced it with the red shirt. On the upper left of the shirt had a small stallion on it with a sword crossing over it in a vertical perpendicular manner. Archir looked at it, for on the blade of the sword said "Heart Of Arda" on it and the thought made him smile slightly. He vaguely noted Legolas laying him down to slide his pajama trousers off and sliding his shorts on before sitting him back up and sliding socks upon his feet. While he should be embarrassed and protesting at being dressed like a helpless baby, Archir had found it easier to give in and just allow them to, for the elves and his family were rather insistant in many things. Legolas did up the laces on his shoes and let Archir jump to his feet, before taking his son's hand and walking with him to the dining area.

The dining room was filled with various members of Archir's family. The Mirkwood King, Archir's Daerada Thranduil, and the Rivendell King, Archir's Grandfather Elrond, were exchanging a light banter as the twins were defending themselves against some sort of prank (very much reminding Archir of the Weasley twins). Legolas picked Archir up and placed him on a chair next to Aragorn who turned to them and smiled, placing a kiss on his son's forehead. Arwen was on his other side and smiled as well. Archir peaked to see the wedded couple holding each other's hand, Aragorn's hand over Arwen's at the table. Legolas piled eggs and other delicacies on Archir's plate and the little boy bit his cheek before he took a nibble on the bread first. Even after a long time, he could not stomach much for he grew up with a small stomach. The Dursleys...

Archir dropped his fork with a clang and blushed as his two fathers immediately asked him what was wrong. _Why was he thinking so much of the Dursleys? _Archir shook away their concerns, offering a small smile to them, and resumed eating. Though when he tried to pick up his fork, Legolas took it from him and turned Archir in his spot. The next thing he knew, Legolas convinced Archir to let him feed him, spooning some of the eggs into Archir's mouth. This was highly humiliating, but Archir couldn't bring himself to protest as much as he could. For his mind was still reeling with the fact that he could not get the Dursleys out of his head. It was all coming back to him again, painfully. He remembered Harry Hunting and Petunia slamming the pan at his head. He recalled his first beating and living under the cupboard under the stairs. Flashbacks to his aunt trying to drown him in the bath, Vernon grabbing his hand and -

Archir immediately looked at Legolas to stop and the elf put the fork down and drew Archir onto his lap. The child buried his head into Legolas' chest, ignorant of the very worried stares of the occupants of the hall. He shook slightly and the elf rubbed Archir's back in an attempt to soothe him. It took a few minutes before Archir calmed down and he looked at Legolas with a thankful smile, though hesitant.

"May I go outside... by myself Ada?" Archir asked Legolas, before turning to his other father, "Daddy and Mama?" The three shared a look of their own before Aragorn hesitantly nodded. Archir slid off his seat and, making sure his staff was with him, walked out of the halls and down the large steps. As he reached a small tree, he closed his eyes and sat down. He looked up at the blue sky, wondering why he would never be at peace. Why would he always be haunted by things even from his first life. The moments where he thought he would die in Privet Drive. Ron's bitter words to him in fourth year was another sting. Archir clutched his chest, feeling a cold feeling rise up. He quickly stood up and wondered if he should go back.

"One so young, all alone." A voice purred in his ear and Archir shivered, stiffening as he felt someone behind him. This presence was slightly intense and he felt as if he couldn't move. He stood there, watching warily as a man came out from behind. Archir's eyes widened at the sight of this man.

"Y-You're -" Archir stammered, unable to move, paralyzed with shock. Gandalf had told him... No... This was a trick.

"Yes I am. You will suffer for the hope you have given too many people," He said with a vicious grin. Archir raised his staff and prepared to blow a fireball at the man when the man struck him down with a strong wind and took the staff from Archir.

"Children shouldn't play with such... dangerous toys," the man tusked as he stepped straight on the weak spine of the staff and Archir watched in horror as it snapped in half, the phoenix feather shriveling away as the magic that once held it broke. Archir, lying flatly on the ground, tried to get up when a foot stomped onto his back. Archir fell back down and looked up at the man defiantly. The man looked down upon the boy with a smirk, a malicious look gracing his twisted and distorted face. Archir winced as the man yanked him upwards by gripping his upper arm. A pop was heard and it was obvious his arm was now pulled out of its socket. Archir tried a little wandless magic and he gasped when he found himself slapped across the face.

"You little brat. I don't think magic is wise against me. I am after all a wizard as well," He growled and Archir struggled as the wizard slapped him again. When he was slammed against a tree, Archir felt his head collide and his eyes grew heavy. He looked into the eyes of his kidnapper with weary eyes before the slid shut and he fell unconscious. If anyone happened to have been looking in their direction, they would see the broken shards of a magical staff dull and lifeless, the blood smeared on a tree, and a wizard robed in blue leaving the scene, carrying a sack in his hands...

Aragorn was wary as he gazed upon the throne room, wondering where on earth his little son was. Arwen sat beside him as Gandalf and Legolas stood to his left. A row of people surrounded him. Aragorn sighed, for he could not leave his throne just yet to go look for him.

"I sense a black aura," Gandalf said suddenly. Aragorn's eyes shot up and he immediately thought of his son. Legolas placed a hand on the newly made King's shoulder as if to give comfort when he was trying to seek a comfort of his own. Gandalf looked extremely concentrated on something, as if a grave danger was right on their doorsteps. He took a step forward and stopped, hesitating before he ran from the room to the astonishment of many. Aragorn ran after him, unable to take the tension and worry. His son had not been back since breakfast and he had looked very out of it.

What if...? What - No. He mustn't think of that now! He needed his little son to reassure him. Already he had grown to the point that he needed Archir's presence. His son was just so innocent and dependent on them within the week that he stayed here. Aragorn vaguely registered that Arwen and Legolas were following. They stopped immediately upon seeing Gandalf on his knees, shaking. Aragorn's eyes widened. Never, not even upon the eve of death, had he seen Gandalf cry. Yet, here he was, shaking and stumbling as if he had seen the worst. This did nothing but cause Aragorn to shake as well.

"G-Gandalf?" Aragorn called out. The wizard shockingly stood up and looked at Aragorn before he looked at what he held in his hands. Aragorn felt his knees give out and he wanted to scream.

For in Gandalf's hands was the broken staff of Archir the Emerald, the Prince of Arda. The child was missing.

**Author's Note: First off I want to be advertising this because my site has been going down. If you love roleplaying. Just plain old roleplaying, go to my profile and click the link that leads to Yochi Nouvel. It's an awesome site I worked on and I want it to get back to what it was in activity and keep it going. CONTINUING! Now that I finished that, I hope you guys got a nice little sad thrill from Archir's horrid nightmares. What you heard at the beginning is indeed what Frodo and Aragorn heard that night. The modern song was by Your Guardian Angel Lyrics - The Red Jumpsuit Apparatus. Yes Yes I know Archir sleeps a lot. It's somewhat intended. I found that a lot of things happen when you're asleep. Trust me on that. Where you surprised when Archir got kidnapped? I bet you were and don't try to hide it. I led you all to believe the story was ending real soon. Don't worry, plenty more to come. This story was short because I wanted to make sure you guys got to read it so that I could say Happy TURKEY day. Hehe.**


	19. Missing

**Ring Child**

**by Kiamii**

**Chapter Nineteen "Missing"**

_The stench of burnt wood immediately filled his sense of smell. Something hot burnt his eyes as he struggled to open them. He tasted rust and salt in his mouth, meaning he was bleeding. Great... Archir's eyelids fluttered until he groaned and slowly unclosed them to find himself in a dark and enclosed room. It was very hot in here though, as if lit on fire. He could see nothing except darkness. Archir decided then and there he hated the dark. At least with his cupboard he had the cracks from the door to serve as light... As Archir sat up little by little, he instantly noticed that his hands were tied behind his back and so were his ankles. There was a second item looped around his ankle and Archir vaguely recognized it as the item Gandalf described to him in one of his Istari lessons... A magic repressor. The thought made him cringe and pale, for he knew he could not do magic unless he could unlock it with the key. Not just any key, that key. He couldn't even pick lock the thing because of the magical signature the key held. Great... _

_Shifting his weight so that he could sit up, Archir bit his lip as he felt with his tied up hands for some sort of clue. Nothing. He only felt the wooden floors. Archir stiffened as he heard footsteps before a light blinded him, causing him to squeeze his eyes shut._

_"The little boy is awake, I see..." A voice said in a near cruel whisper. Archir felt icey cold hands lift him up and he was roughly situated in an awkward hold, being carried somewhere. Archir blinked open his eyes and took note that he was being hung over someone's shoulder. Since he was too small to be pitched over like a sack of potatoes (or also called the Fireman's lift) he felt rather ridiculous that he was being carried by his kidnapper like a baby, with the exception of the hands on his restraints and not his head and under his knees. Archir squirmed to try and get out of the grip, but this served to cause him to tighten his hold._

_"Wouldn't want a small fry like you to get loose now would we?" The man said with a hollow laugh. When he reached his destination, he dropped Archir in a small object that caused the boy to look at him in confusion. It was a cage. The man closed the lid and locked it, looking at Archir with a smirk through the bars. Archir wriggled, trying to get out of his bonds. For some reason, the more he tried the more panicky he felt. Maybe it was because reality was starting to hit him._

_"Why are you doing this?" Archir asked, desperation almost crawling into his voice for a second before he paused. No. He needed to be stronger and stop acting like such a kid._

_"You hold something within that I want to comprehend. You give too much hope to Middle Earth and I seek to rid of that atrocious hope. I wouldn't attempt escape, the cage is rather metallic and holds magic rather well, even fire. Your magic will not work here, especially while I hold the key to the restraints," The man said with a hum in his tone. He seemed very intent on something, yet it was something that Archir had no true idea about. He wished so much right now to see his Ada and daddy. Or even papa._

_"You're doing this for Saruman or Sauron. That I know," Archir murmured, having theorized this from the start. The man grinned toothlessly at Archir, bending over to peer in the cage._

_"That I am NOT. I do this as my own person. I feel that a mere child should not have powers like them or Gandalf or I." The wizard said before he walked over to some sort of crystallized orb and he looked into it intently. Archir wriggled again and bit his cheek as he felt trapped._

_"Why don't you just kill me now?" Archir challenged miserably. He winced as he shifted his weight to the left, realizing that something else was injured more than he thought._

_"That would spoil my fun though," the man said maliciously, giving a mock disappointed sigh. Archir looked at this man who had somehow, someway, managed to get into the very core of Minas Tirith and kidnap him all because he wanted to torture Archir the Emerald for giving the lives of men hope. He wriggled in his position and looked taken aback as a glow came from the handcuffs and undid themselves. He looked over to see the man grinning wildly._

_"Of course, anything in her responds to a real wizard's magic, such as myself." The man said arrogantly and he took the handcuffs off Archir and left him in the cage before closing the door and leaving the room. Archir bit his lip and sighed. He had to think of a plan to escape and fast. Looking down, he noticed the bruise forming on his small arms. Now that he was uncuffed and without magic, he felt like a helpless little boy. That was probably the man's intention. Archir looked at the closed glass window with a longing look. He missed them all so much..._

Aragorn was rather upset and in a right mood since this morning. His little boy, little Archir, was currently missing. He had been kidnapped and this thought served to further upset the King of Men. Already he had gathered many and sent them out to look for the Prince of Arda. Elrond and Thranduil sent their own guards to help in the search, for Archir meant everything to everyone.

"Where could he be?" Aragorn groaned as he sat in his chair, his wife sitting next to him with a saddened expression.

"We'll find him and hurt whoever took him. Don't worry," Legolas said with a fiery passion. He was adjusting his bow and arrow as he bowed to Aragorn, a simple goodbye, and left the room to join in the search. Aragorn looked sour, mainly because he wasn't able to leave Minas Tirith because as a King, he was to leave it to his men. Thranduil and Elrond were around her somewhere, the same situation for them.

"He was finally getting adjusted and THIS had to happen," Aragorn said softly to his wife.

"When we get him back, we'll just have to work harder at reassuring Archir that he is loved," Arwen replied, kissing her husband on the lips before she stood up and straightened her long evergreen dress as she went to look for her father.

"I have reason to believe that it was not an ordinary folk that took Archir," Gandalf said slowly as he entered the room. Aragorn jumped up and went over to the elderly wizard.

"I sensed... a very different power than either Sauron and Saruman. This was a wizard and the only ones I can think of would be one of the two Blue Wizards for they have not been in my hearing for quite awhile." Gandalf continued and Aragorn looked at the Istari.

"What business would they want with a child wizard?" Aragorn said incredulously.

"They could have joined Sauron." Gandalf said with a quirked eyebrow, "or the fact that Archir IS a child Istari infuriates them. At my last gathering with them, they were always intent on making sure that Wizards were of purity, or some sort of power. To think that a mere little boy of four years held the same level of power as them must be shattering their images and causing them fury and vengeful. I can only hope that my student is well and able to defend him. As to where he is, I do not know." Aragorn weakly returned to his seat and dropped his hands in his head, shaking his head slowly. Finally he stood up and walked slowly down to the room where his son usually occupied before he was taken. The thought made Aragorn's blood run cold. He bit his lip and walked into the room, taking note of the rather thrown clothing coming from Legolas dressing Archir this morning in a hurry. Poor Legolas... he had been planning to teach Archir archery and Aragorn himself had wanted to show the boy how to ride a horse by himself even though he was much too small to do so, they had young ponies around because of Frodo. Speaking of which... the hobbits were somewhere around the castle as well, probably depressed at the kidnapping of Archir the Emerald, son of Aragorn and Legolas, prince of Arda. The long title brought a small smile to the man before he noted the stuffed pheonix. He picked it up gently and fingered the silk material. Speaking of which, the room was rather bare for a child. Maybe while he waited, he could hire a few maidens to sew up colorful blankets and... yes... he could do that too. Aragorn nodded to himself. His little boy would be back and when he was, Aragorn would have Archir's nursery turned into one fit for any little boy. He was remembering his room when he was Estel. Maybe he could ask Elrond and Thranduil for some help... They couldn't go searching for the child so why not try to fill their hope? Aragorn spun around and went off to find his father-in-law and Legolas' father...

_Archir let out a yell of pain as he was thrown violently against the wall. Archir winced as Alator the Blue wizard gripped his hand harshly. _

_"The little boy is cold," Alator said mockingly, "perhaps he needs a little... heat." With this said he waved his staff and a pot of water appeared. Archir looked at him wearily before his eyes widened as Alator slowly pulled his hand towards the pot. It was boiling, he noted, and the thought filled the 4-year-old boy with pure terror. Memories of Vernon Dursley trying to shove his hand into the oven came back. It was the same situation and Archir struggled as best as one could._

_"NO! Please! DON'T!!!!" Archir yelled in fright. He began to shiver violently, his muscles spazzing as his kidnapper brought his hand to right above the water. It was so close that Archir could feel the heat rising from the steam. He trembled and tried to flee in vain. Alator gave him one sinister smirk before he plunged the child's hand into the water._

_Archir screamed of pure agony. Everything in his hand was HOT. Please! Make it stop! It hurts so much! No!!! NO! Please!!!! Archir screamed, tears leaking from his eyes in a massive amount as he struggled, his hand trapped within in the water. He cried in pain, unable to stand the intense heat. He was losing feeling in his hand. Please, Please, Please make it stop. He silently begged. Finally the man pulled the hand out and Archir stopped screaming slowly, shivering violently and still sobbing as he was given his hand back._

_"I plan to return you to the men... piece by piece." Alator said with an insane grin and Archir felt rage hit him full force. This man was sick and darker than even Saruman. Archir's emerald eyes flashed and he stood up, having been dropped to the floor carelessly. He needed his magic back. He wanted to destroy this man. It had been weeks now since he had seen his family and his entire body was covered in bruises and scrapes, his body shaken in blood marking certain spots. He. Had. Enough!_

_"No more," Archir spat and he glared at the man who dare take him from his family. The man who tried to make people lose hope. He deserved to die for what he had done. He -_

_Alator stared in astonishment as a glow emitted from the small burnt hand of the child and began to grow in intensity and volume as it surrounded the anklet and he could only watch as it snapped in half. He readied his staff, but was unable to block the unknown objects slamming into him. He did however notice that Archir had pointed his HAND (the injured one) at him and the boy's eyes. They were unreal! They were a mystifying ice green and reaked of power he had never seen. The light grew from the child and suddenly, before he could comprehend it, the boy was gone. WHAT!?!? Alator growled and tried to use his magic to search the grounds for the boy. He was nowhere to be seen on these grounds..._

Archir gasped as he woke up. He panted and gripped his broken ribs slowly. It wasn't a dream, it was the memory of being kidnapped from two nights ago. When Archir had appeared in another area, he had found that it was a forest. Whatever forest, he did not know. One of the most depressing realizations was that he had depleted his magic escaping, and wouldn't be up to par to even try healing himself or apparating for awhile now. Somehow, he had to survive. His emerald robes were not on him, so he looked like any other child. He was wearing his torn shorts and shirt, covered somewhat in grime and blood. Great. Just great.

Archir sighed, relieved to be away, but knowing he couldn't survive much longer by himself in the woods. Who said he was even in Middle Earth anymore? The trees told him so, though he hadn't talked with them. Archir bit his lip before he plucked a berry off the bushes and nibbled on them, his stomach closing up. That would happen because he had not been fed very well since the kidnapping. Frodo would have kittens if he saw Archir not eating, making Archir smile as he knew he was homesick. He stood up, wincing at his ankle's shooting pain, and began to slowly limp north. Maybe, just maybe, he'd find his home again. Archir wasn't about to give up.

**Author's Note: Hahaha I think I worried a LOT of my reviewers with that last cliff hanger. Sorry you guys. I know this chapter was short but Just know I don't intend to abandon this story like most author's would by now. That you can be assured of. I know there were time jumps in this chapter. That helps the effect and you can tell if it time jumps by if its italicized or not. So yet another surprise, eh? Yes, the two blue wizards were a nice thought to add into the story and I hope this chapter wasn't so out of it. I was having a little bit of a writer's block all of a sudden and had to get out of that funk. Bet you didn't think of that. You should note that Alator is not dead yet and will come after Archir. The child is lost and now we shall see if he can get home. Using his powers to escape, he is magically drained and will take awhile to restore his energy. Also, I realize that this story is very Angsty. This is because it builds a tension that you don't even know its there. It builds paranoia so that you never know when something might happen to Archir. I find it very fun to use.**


	20. Home is where the Heart is

**Ring Child**

**by Kiamii**

**Chapter Twenty "Home is where my heart lies"**

Footsteps were lightly padding against the soft and wet ground as he whimpered. The air was slick with a thick freezing temperature and he felt unbelievably cold. Leaves fell upon his skin from the skies where the tall trees grew. He couldn't open his eyes or muster up the energy to move himself. He wouldn't get away in time, he knew that. He had forgotten just how many days he had been in the forest by himself. That including his numerous injuries had all but zapped away the 4-year-old boy's energy. Archir trembled only slightly as he felt the presence of someone kneeling down, a hand to his neck to feel his irregular heartbeat.

"A youngling alone in the forest... This will not do," The voice said. The tone was caring and worried. For him? Archir stiffened as arms wound slowly around his waist and slowly lifted him up into their arms, adjusting him to lean against a firm shoulder. He wearily opened his eyes, having not been able to sleep because of the rain that was currently down pouring.

"Hello little one," this person said to him quite pleasantly and he nestled Archir into his chest, his arms around the boy. His hood, that which had been worn over his head, had fallen off and he could now see the boldly displayed ears. Pointed ears... Archir instantly noticed that this was an elf. He relaxed and allowed the elf to cover him with a cloth to keep the rain from continuing its padded slaps against his red face. He was carried off and Archir took the time to feel the strong arms holding him, intaking the muddy and comforting scent of the elf. He didn't know how long he lay in the arms of the elf but he soon found himself out of the rain (if the silence was anything to go by) and was now in a house, judging by the warmth he was feeling.

"Erestor you lazy elf! I need you here, now!" the calming voice said loudly and Archir whimpered as he heard the screeches of a chair and running before a gasp was made. The arms around him adjusted him and Archir buried his head into the elf's chest as the elf brushed a bit of his hair behind his head, seeing his rounded ears with a reminiscing look.

"An adain?" Erestor said in surprise. Archir bit his lip as he was kept against the elf's chest who turned to Erestor. This elf was somewhat short and very firm. He beheld an orderly face mingled with serious reality and constant dark shouldered hair tied back, his eyes were hazel and sharp, his voice something along the lines of a commander. Yet he was strong and kind. He held himself in a way that showed he cared, but would not admit it so. He was someone who Archir instantly knew would heal him.

"Yes, and he is gravely ill and injured. Is Estel's old room still available?" Glorfindel asked as he adjusted the child in his arms. Erestor nodded and the two made their way to the nursery hall where Estel's room once was located. It was still fit for a child, considering Estel was eight when he moved from the nursery hall and into the halls where Elladan and Elrohir were located. The twins and the lord were away in Minas Tirith, taking errand to Aragorn, their once little Estel. Arwen was with them as well as the Mirkwood Elves and half of the guards. Apparently, Elrond now had an adopted grandson and this had caused a grand joy within Rivendell, for this child was the Istari youngling. Children were rare among Elves, but even more so completely mind boggling to know that the Valar had created a child with magic. When Glorfindel had been sent to gather Frodo and hurry him to Rivendell with the others, Aragorn had kept Archir tightly wrapped in his arms with a cloak, for the child had been rather shaken. Erestor and Glorfindel had been away on a mission when the hobbits had come. They had arrived back way long after the Company of ten members had left, and Elrond informed them that a little boy was sent along with the group, to their surprise. He did not say who, just that he was another Estel to him.

The room was as fine as it had ever been. The walls were a beige with red and blues around as painted green vines were made. There was a large window overseeing the garden with colorful blue curtains draping across. Under the window was the large child's bed with Ivary green blankets and Estel's night blanket which had been dubbed Blankey. A stuffed bear was lying on the bed as well. There was a wardrobe off to the left and a toy chest to the right. Next to the door was a large shelf with various children's books and toys made just for Estel. Glorfindel laid the boy on the bed as Erestor took in the child's size and plucked out a night shirt with necessities. Together, the two elves undressed the little boy. The boy said nothing the whole time and simply whimpered. The elves gasped as they took in the bare body of the little one. He was covered head to toe in bruises and they could finally realize that the boy's arm was burnt severely. Erestor ran off to fetch the needed bandages and soothing salves while Glorfindel set to comforting the boy.

"Shh little one. You are safe here. I'm Glorfindel and you can call me Glorfy if you so wish," Glorfindel soothed as he remembered the nickname that Estel had created for him at the age of two because he didn't want to say a long name. Archir's lips quirked upward somewhat and this encouraged Glorfindel to keep going.

"Do you know your name, child?" He asked and Archir nodded slowly, studying the elf. Glorfindel was tall and straight with his hair of shining gold, a fair face that displayed youth and fealess joy. His eyes were very brightly blue and keen, his voice sounding like music. His brow sat wisdom and in his hand was strength. This was an elf that made Archir feel very safe and trusting in, despite his nature of mistrusting adults most of the time.

"Archir," the child said quietly and Glorfindel smiled at the name. It was a nice and surprisingly fitting name for the child.

"Well Archir, can you tell me what has taken place to you and your age?" The elf asked as Erestor returned and sat the child up, holding out the arm to apply a cloth to it. Archir winced but kept quiet, something Erestor remember Estel would never do. Estel was rather loud and preferred to complain about his injuries when he was little.

"I'm four," Archir admitted and they looked at him silently. The boy looked to be so much younger, "and I was taken away from my Ada and family." The word Ada made them curious; for that was the elven language and no adain used Ada with the exception of Estel. Ada was for elvish fathers. Nevertheless, they pressed on, aiming to reassure the child that they'd find his family again.

"You'll be safe with us until Lord Elrond returns and we are able to find your family," Glorfindel promised and looked surprised when Archir looked at him, astonished.

"Am I in Rivendell?" He asked, incredulous. When they nodded the child breath in relief, to their wonder.

"This is my grandad's home!" Archir said and he elaborated at their stunned looks, "My granddad is Elrond for when I was adopted, My daddy, Aragorn, married an elven lady named Arwen whom I call my mama and Legolas is my Ada," Archir explained, instinctively knowing he could trust them. Now it was their turn to become astonished at what they heard. Elrond's grandson was right in front of them and had been kidnapped, probably reason for why their lord had been delayed. The sole fact that Aragorn was now Archir's father was even more so amazing. Erestor murmured something about fetching the child something to snack on while Glorfindel went about finishing the medical aid before he took the night shirt and with Archir raising his arms in the air in response, he tugged the sleeves on the tiny boy's arms and buttoned it up for him before he helped Archir into the bottoms and undergarments. With that done, he lifted Archir up and pulled the covers back, placing his lord's grandchild in Estel's old bed and covering him up. The sight underneath Archir's clothing was now a bandage wrapped around his torso, his burnt arm wrapped up as well as his ankle, a band aid on his forehead and cheek, and his other arm was given a band to keep still until they could further heal it.

"Did you know," Glorfindel began with an amused smile, "that this was your father Aragorn's old room?" He took a joy in seeing Archir's eyes light up like a star. This made Glorfindel chuckle as he looked at the little boy who was his lord's grandson, strongly reminded of when he helped take care of his lord's adopted son (Estel).

"Really? My daddy lived here?" Archir asked in childish wonder. Glorfindel nodded and made himself comfortable.

"He lived here for years, a child named Estel at the time," He said with a fond look on his face. He chuckled when Archir sat up and looked at him expectantly. Erestor came in with a tray and sat on the end of the bed, placing the tray in front of Archir and proceeding to spoon the warm soup into Archir's mouth, who protested with embarrassment but Erestor easily told him that he shouldn't be using his burnt arm or the other one considering that one was strained. Archir gave in and let Erestor feed him.

"As I was saying," Glorfindel said with a quirked eyebrow to Erestor who was wiping Archir's mouth, "Estel was a rather active little boy when he was your age. He liked to run from everyone who dared try to give him a bath." Erestor snorted and put the tray on the dresser, coming back to sit.

"More than that, he screamed 'No bath!' repeatedly and would hide from us until we tricked him in with promise of chocolate," Erestor said with a grin.

"Do you know how he met my Ada?" Archir asked curiously. The two elves nodded, recalling that Archir's Ada was Legolas, Prince of Mirkwood and years older than Aragorn.

"Legolas was in his teens when he met little Estel who was six. At first, Estel didn't rather like him very much, thinking that the Prince of Mirkwood was rather spoiled, though Estel never realizes that he was more spoiled than Legolas," Erestor answered, laughing towards the end. Archir gave a smile and Erestor absently tucked the sheets around Archir a little more.

"They became friends because Estel's adopted older brothers, Elrohir and Elladan, had locked the two in a room and forgot about them. Legolas and Estel talked to each other and fall asleep there until their father's found them and threw a fit at the twins." Glorfindel continued with a fond smile on his lips. Archir laughed and burrowed further under the covers, feeling somewhat drowsy. The elves noticed this and continued talking of the adventures of little Estel. From when Estel wondered why he had no pointy ears, to when Estel became Aragorn. They both shared a triumphant grin as Archir fell asleep. Erestor ran a hand through the black hair and the two left the room, cracking the door for him. The only other elves around were the maids, the cooks, and the staff of Rivendell as well as the citizens. Only some of the guards had gone to Minas Tirith.

"He is very different than Estel was at that age. He seems to be more covered with angst of his own," Glorfindel said to his old friend who nodded back.

"Elrond told me about Archir, but never his name. The child had seen too much that any elf would smother him away to be forever protected," Erestor sighed and the two looked at each other before knowing the other's thought. They'd keep the little boy safe. Safe... and happy.

It wasn't until weeks later that Archir's burnt arm was fully healed thanks to the salves, his ankle had been able to stable him, and his other arm was now in a sling. His torso had to be re-wrapped a lot though. He was still covered in bruises and got ill very easily, but the two elves sought to help Archir recover. They convinced him to eat at every meal until he could no longer eat another morsel and Archir played with the millions of toys in Estel's room. One of Archir's new founded favorites was sneaking into the study, where Erestor worked, and convincing the Elf to either let him read or read to him a book about the history of Middle Earth. It was different to hear the elven point of view, unlike a wizard like Gandalf's telling. Erestor did not tell him details of battles and he always added in light comments to get the boy to smile. Sometimes he would fall asleep in Erestor's lap as the elf read to him in different voices, and he'd always wake up in his pajamas in his bed with Estel's stuffed teddy and his father's "blankey". The staff of Rivendell enjoyed the little boy's company and Archir had as much as one could have. He never strayed far from the house of Elrond and liked to interact with the horses in the stable. The staff found that Archir was much more calm and obediant than Estel at that age, which amused them to no end.

"Archir?" Erestor called out and he found the little boy sitting in contentment in the garden, holding something in his small hands. The council elf went over to Archir and knelt down in front of the child who looked up at him with a sad look in his eyes.

"May I see?" Erestor asked as he better sat down on the grass with the boy. Archir unclasped his hands and revealed a withered white lily tiger flower, having recently died if the texture was anything to go by. Archir's lower lip trembled and Erestor sighed and he placed his hands over Archir's to comfort him.

"Why does everything have to die `restor?" Archir asked, something along the lines of pained in his tone that almost broke the elf's heart.

"Because they are given life somewhere else," Erestor said as best as he could.

"But w-what if... What if they weren't meant to die at the time?" Archir said, a tremble heard in his voice. A tear went down Archir's cheek and Erestor gathered the tiny boy into his arms and rocked him, his arms warming Archir's cold body.

"Oh honey, they were. Maybe it was unexpected to everyone, but it was expected to the person that dies." Erestor soothed, "They wouldn't want their friends and family to forget them or let themselves be consumed by grief."

"It was my fault that my family died though." Archir whispered, making Erestor stop and look at the little boy. Elrond had told him that the Istari child traveling with the Company at the time had been orphaned and left in Gandalf's care. Did Archir really think it was his fault?

"Baby, it isn't your fault for something out of your control. You were a little boy and you still are one." Erestor said softly and he cupped Archir's cheek as the child nodded to Erestor, showing that he was listening to the argument. The two stayed there, Archir in Erestor's lap, for quite awhile until Glorfindel came outside and called them in. A strange bird was in the house of Elrond. Describing it to be red and having appeared by fire made Archir crawl out of his current guardians lap and run inside, to the two elves' confusion. They went inside to see the unknown bird perched on Archir's shoulder as the four year old boy pat the bird with a wide smile.

"Fawkes, I've missed you!" Archir was saying. The two elves let themselves be known as they entered and Archir turned to them as Fawkes flew into the air and circled them all, causing Glorfindel to warily make sure he was within reach of Archir.

"This is Fawkes, a phoenix." Archir introduced, "Fawkes, this is `Restor and Glorfy of Rivendell who are friends of my granddad, Elrond." The bird trilled its greeting and landed on a table off to the side, turning to preen its feathers.

"Is Fawkes here on some sort of social call?" Glorfindel asked with a quirked eyebrow of confusion. Archir grinned at him and nodded. The bird looked up at this and trilled something sad that Archir knew its meaning to.

"You have to go back then? So quickly?" Archir asked as Erestor walked over and lifted Archir onto his hip. Archir looped his arms around the elf's neck as Fawkes plucked a feather from its back and hopped to give to Archir who gently took it and looked at the bird, wide-eyed.

"You came to give me this to make my staff again? Can you let me send a letter to my daddy and Ada first using you to transport it?" Archir inquired and he broke into a grin as the phoenix nodded before pecking Archir on the cheek lightly. Erestor blinked at the whole scene before adjusting his hold on Archir and carrying the boy to the dining area. Setting Archir down and serving him a plate of food, Archir tucked the feather away into his jacket before munching on his bread. Fawkes had followed them and Erestor remembered what Archir said before fetching paper and a writing utensil. After eating and letting Erestor clean his face, Archir was placed on his bed and he laid on his stomach while Glorfindel sat on a rocking chair next to the bed that the staff had built for Archir since he could not sleep well. The child thought for a moment before he began writing and Glorfindel rubbed Archir's back as he did. When at last he finished, he rolled it up and tied it with a red ribbon, a tag with his name attatched, and gave it to the phoenix who trilled happily before flaming away.

"Quite a unique bird," Glorfindel commented lightly. Archir grinned and poked his tongue out childishly, to which the warrior elf proceeded to tickle the boy until he gave in.

"Come now Archir, it is time for a bath before you dream," Erestor said as he entered the room with a towel. Archir sat up and pouted before grinning.

"Will you read to me again `restor?" Archir asked and when the elf nodded, Archir slid off the bed and let the elf take his hand and whisk him away to the bathing room. While Glorfindel stood off to the side as Erestor bathed a distracted Archir (who was always mesmerized by the many enchanting toys that filled the tub), the elf joked about how Archir's father was so much more difficult to get to bathe and this made Erestor laugh. Archir grinned suddenly and aimed a splash at Erestor who spluttered while Glorfindel roared in laughter at the normally composed elf.

"You little orc," Erestor said and he playfully splashed Archir back who giggled and what started next ended with a very soaked Erestor grumbling as Glorfindel dried off Archir and got him dressed in his blue pajamas. Archir yawned and the elf opted to carry him back to his room. When he tucked Archir in, there was suddenly a roar of light and Fawkes returned with a letter in its beak.

"They replied?" Archir murmured sleepily and Glorfindel took the letter and read it out loud to him with a smile.

_To my dear son,_

_Fawkes is a rather proud bird, I must admit because of the various nipping I got from Fawkes when I called the phoenix a turkey. For all my parts, your Ada did as well! (I did not! Hey son) Now... I am delighted to hear you are well in Rivendell. Your granddad and the twins are on their way back to Rivendell and it will be Elrohir and Elladan who bring you back to Minas Tirith. We'll be awaiting you and we have a very well thought out surprise just for you when you get back._

_Loving you always,_

_Your daddy __and mama__ (and Ada!)._

Glorfindel laughed as he finished reading it to Archir who smiled at the letter.

"So they're coming to get me?" Archir mumbled as Glorfindel ran a hand through the boy's hair.

"Indeed they are," Glorfindel said, a little sad to see the child have to leave soon.

"I'll miss you," Archir yawned.

"You have days before then, sleep now child. Goodnight Archir."

"`Night Glorfy. I love you." Archir said as his eyes fluttered close and he soon fell asleep.

"Love you too little Istari."

**Author's Note: Some of you guys sure know how to whine. Yes I make mistakes and (sarcasm) thankyou to some who pointed out that my writing has been going downhill. It's intended somewhat. Angst, maybe I should change the genre to Angst since I have so many complainers. No it's not overkilling it, there is meaning behind it. Remember how I finally answered WHY Archir is child. You guys complained ALOT at first on WHY Archir was three at the beginning. It's a statement that has meaning with it. Now that Archir is out of that bit of danger, will Alator find him again? Who knows and you'll just have to wait to find out. Were you all relieved to know that Archir was being taken care of? I would be. Erestor and Glorfindel needed their moments and yes their nicknames come from some Estel Fanfics. I couldn't resist. Fawkes makes an appearance and Archir's magic comes back little by little. Until next chapter, you'll have to wait to read about the reunion. I changed a few things about the book up of course. Glorfindel & Erestor did NOT go to the wedding of Elessar because of something or another. Yes the year here is now 3019 (BC?) like in the book. Remember you guys, Elves treat children more like children despite their intelligence and such. They value kids and this boy was their lord's grandson. I bet the interaction of them all had you cooing. It had me too. Lol the coddling and total childish Archir in this chapter was contributive to several things; His kidnapping, being around elves, and homesick for Aragorn. Love you guys!**


	21. Protective Family

**Ring Child**

**by Kiamii**

**Chapter Twenty-One "Protective Family"**

Days passed as Archir found himself in an almost routine with the elves. Glorfindel had started teaching Archir about balance, since the child always fell over if he stood on one foot. Archir had managed to gain a little more weight and height during his stay which pleased the cooks who made sure that Archir had vegetables and fruits at the table during meals at every chance. One of Erestor's now favorite scenes was trying to coach Archir into eating the green foods and Archir had grimaced at him and looked at him incredulously. What had been involved next was Glorfindel making a big deal about how 'yummy' the 'veggies' were to him. Archir wasn't born yesterday, so of course this didn't work. Erestor had laughed at the other elf's attempts before he told Archir that if he didn't eat them himself, he would handfeed Archir them. Needless to say, Archir managed to start eating them one way or another. Fawkes had, before leaving for good, left an egg with Archir that only yesterday had hatched into a phoenix of its own. So bright was the feminine phoenix of white shades that Archir had named her Hedwig, in memory of his former companion and familiar. The days had gone by with something new containing either an up or down to them all; So much had happened as of late that Erestor and Glorfindel knew they would miss their lord's little grandson. The day before his family (namely the mischievous and overprotective twins Elladan and Elrohir) would be coming to pick him up; Although, Archir had fallen victim to another illness and was currently still sick in bed as Elrond and his sons rode into Rivendell later that evening...

_`Choo!_

Archir sneezed and Erestor handed him a tissue to which Archir cleared his nose and put it in the bin that was next to his bed, which now littered with various objects on top of his sheets and mostly consisted of books and toys as the child had fallen sick two nights ago. Archir scrunched up his nose and curled up under the covers with a pathetic groan as Erestor sighed and placed a hand on Archir's shoulder, giving it a rub so that he could comfort the little boy in some kind of form. Archir relaxed against the touch, finding the rub both firm and gentle. He was beginning to grow accustomed to comforting touches, no longer flinching at everything sharp and unexpected. Archir had admitted a week ago to Glorfindel that he had been through abuse of a sort before he came across Gandalf. Explaining his journey from the Shire to Minas Tirith took naught more than three days and Glorfindel had been a comforting and kind listener. He had teased to the little boy to expect spoiling now that he was heir of many things, namely heir to Arda.

"I hate being sick," Archir managed to weakly tell his minder before he rolled over on his stomach, his father's old teddy bear (dubbed Nilla for its vanilla cream colour by Aragorn at the age of two) lying content in his arm and he was covered by the notorious "blankey" which seemed to comfort the little boy. Archir snuggled further under the blanket, pulling his thumb to lightly rest in his mouth. The action was becoming rather familiar with him, Archir mused dryly. If only his old world could see him now! Their saver in the body of a little boy, holding a bear and sucking his thumb, allowing people to take care of him finally. Archir closed his eyes at the thought. No longer did the thought of his old world draw a tear to his emerald eyes, instead he could recall to them at last with his own dry humor when he pleased. Archir really had to thank Glorfindel and `Restor for that. They had helped him come to peace with things he had been at conflict with, though they did not know his secrets. Alas, only Gandalf (and Galadriel, he suspected) knew of his life as Harry James Potter, Boy-Who-Lived and Defeater of Voldemort. Erestor smiled softly.

"You will be renewed once more little one, should you sleep now and rest," Erestor assured him and he drew the blankets around Archir closer, caressing the little boy's cheek as Archir leaned against the touch, his thumb falling out of his mouth to rest against the covers. Erestor smiled softly as he saw that Archir was slowly falling asleep now. The child was someone different and entirely new to his experience. Where Estel had been loud and always happy and innocent, Archir retained a dampened innocence that made one want to smother him with their own affection, and hide him away from the horrors of the world. He was quiet, not so much withdrawn, more along the lines of trusting to his instincts and reliable when older and in a war. He had an air of leadership in his own aura and would make a good leader should he grow up with mankind.

"Indeed he shall before he soon will lay eyes upon his two fathers and mother once more," a voice came behind him and Erestor whirled around to see Lord Elrond who was smiling quite happily as he leaned against the door frame with a grin, his eyes twinkling as if a star had been caught in his dark colored eyes. He hadn't looked like that since Estel had been here and the thought made Erestor smile as well. Elrond walked in followed by his twin sons who lit up when they saw the little boy, though they frowned at his ill state. Elrond knelt by the bed and placed a hand on the child's forehead. The little boy's forehead felt warm enough to bring a light frown on Elrond's handsome face. Archir's closed eyes softly fluttered.

"Granddad?" Archir murmured sleepily. Elrond chuckled and kissed his grandson on the cheek, happy to see the little adain looking safe and happy, even if he was sick, though Glorfindel had warned him that Archir's injuries had been gruesome, if not overwhelmingly added to and scarred. Thankfully they had tended to Archir when he had been found. Elrond noticed the light scar across Archir's cheek as his grandson drifted off to sleep. Caressing the cheek, he felt that it was still on the mend and would probably take a year before Archir was back to himself.

"I worry that Archir will not feel safe in his own home back in Minas Tirith," Erestor admitted. Looking at Archir, Elrond found the child to be slightly different. His hair, once long to be near his elbows, was now snipped to rest in layers above the shoulder. His face was losing the baby fat that came with turning near five years of age. It saddened Elrond that his adopted grandson had gone through the changing during these times of war. From three to four during the Battle of the Ring. Now he was four and turning five soon, very soon if Gandalf's word was anything to go by. He'd be five in four months, according to the aging wizard.

"He was thieved and taken from the very inner core of his own home, his staff of power splintered in two," Gandalf pointed out reluctantly to his lord, "he informed me of this in great distress." Elrond looked sullen as he nodded in agreement. He then spotted the little young bird chirping quietly on a pillow next to his unconscious master. Hedwig was about a few inches tall at this moment, purely snow-colored and a pale yellow beak with claws. Looking closer, her eyes were a bright blueish green, seemingly intense.

"Glorfindel, will you go with my sons to Minas Tirith and help Archir through the anxiety of returning to his home. I hear his two fathers and mother have created something special for him." Elrond requested of his friend and commander. Glorfindel's eyes sparked with a ferocity of protectiveness for his lord's grandson and for the request. Glorfindel look at Elrond for a moment, studying him. The elf was fairly taller than Glorfindel and had dark hair with fair eyes that swarmed with an unseen wisdom and elderly experience. Elrond, usually clad in long royal robes, was wearing simple cloth that showed that he had been out of his home and riding for days to reach them.

"I shall," Glorfindel agreed and Elrond's head turned as he heard Archir murmuring in his sleep, sniffling and shaking before he turned on his side. Glorfindel rested a hand on Archir's head, running it through the black locks, "He has been dreaming of his kidnapping for quite awhile, among other things."

"Other... events?" Elrond inquired with a quirked eyebrow, masking his concern. He idly wondered if Archir knew any children even remotely close to his age.

"His infantry before Gandalf the White found him and brought him to the Shire was... unsatisfactory for any youngling," Glorfindel admitted with a curl on his lips of distaste of the thought. Archir leaned against the touch, seeking the reassurance and comfort that it held. The twins had gone off to pester the cooks to give them something before they were due to leave. Elrond sat on the edge of the bed, taking Archir's limp hand into his own as Archir's free hand balled up and his thumb went into his mouth once more. The habit was so familiar to Elrond that he chuckled lowly before smiling gently.

"He is due to leave tomorrow at dawn." Elrond informed them.

"I will be prepared then. If you shall permit me leave, I will be packing light and resting now." Glorfindel said before he excused himself and exited the child's room. Erestor, sitting in the rocking chair, looked at his lord and friend. They stayed there, both watching over the child that gave so many hope. The flame on the candle in the darkest of caves...

When morning arouse, the occupants of Rivendell bustled with the anticipation of Archir the Emerald's departure. The House of Elrond was busy with a flurry of activity, the cooks preparing a grand meal while Erestor packed up a bag for Archir. The little boy in question was seen sitting on the large bed, watching Erestor with curiousity. Today, in an hour or so, he'd be leaving the safety of Rivendell to return to his daddy and Ada once more in Minas Tirith. Archir was unsure if he would feel safe in his home ever again, but he made a vow to try at the very least. His trust of people in general had declined dramatically and Archir was unsure of how to react near unknown men. Elves were alright for the meantime, for they had not harmed him. Dwarves? Archir only knew Gimli so he could not say anything.

"None of this is mine though," Archir protested as Erestor unbuttoned his night shirt and slipped him in a blue soft cotton tunic with a lighter blue jacket before moving to swap the pajamas pants with finely made trousers. Slipping socks and shoes onto the boy's feet, Erester chuckled and fondly mused up the black hair, grinning at the boy's grumbles. He loved it when Archir acted his age, such as now, though there were reminders that Archir was much more mature, such as the denial of being given a gift.

"A few elves had found it necessary that you be given a few parting gifts. They are yours and I'm sure your daddy would want to see his blankey and Nilla once more, given to you." Erestor said with good humor at his last sentence. He fixed the jacket around Archir and easily pulled a brush through the little boy's hair, pulling it back with a clasp of a teal ribbon. Once that job was done, he pulled the newly crafted bag over Archir's head and fixed it to him. The bag was a messenger's bag made of a soft fabric and the clasp was of dragon hide. In the bag was the teddy bear and blanket that belonged to Archir's father as well as a few spare clothes and a crafted duck toy that had a ribbon around it, made for Arwen as a small girl. Archir had found the duck fun to play with when Erestor had started giving him baths.

"I will miss you `Restor," Archir said sadly and he blinked when Erestor knelt down suddenly and placed a kiss on the little boy's forehead.

"And I shall miss you my dear child," Erestor said seriously, "Therefore, I want you to be happy and well as you go back home. With Hedwig, your growing Phoenix, you will be able to communicate with me, and someday we shall see each other again. Until now, we must depart." With that said, he lifted the child into his arms and carried a quiet Archir down the hall and to the front doors to where the twins and Glorfindel stood with their horses, facing Elrond who looked at the two with a small smile.

"Come, the sun has risen and you must travel now if you are to make it home with in four days." Elrond said quietly and he took Archir from Erestor, placing a kiss on his grandson's cheek before hugging him as he helped Archir to sit on Glorfindel's prideful horse who seemed to be smug about being the one to carry the 'treasure' back, if the other two horses' looks were anything to go by. Glorfindel climbed up as did the twins and they looked at Elrond one last time.

"We will come back to Rivendell, Ada, after we take a small detour through a... certain forest once Archir has been safely delivered." Elrohir replid and Elrond nodded before he lifted his hand up, as if to wave a goodbye and with a neigh, the three horses took off. Archir closed his eyes, holding Hedwig in his arms as he leaned against Glorfindel, drifting off already....

They rode for two days without any trouble, stopping to water and feed as well as rest before going again. _When they reached a clearing of a forest, Archir walked through a path to which he informed them that he needed to do something first. He looked around before he sat in the middle of the clearing, crossing his legs as he let his magic cover him like a frosting over a sugary sweetness._

_Archir closed his eyes, his emerald green robes fluttering softly in the silent and peaceful wind. The trees kept quite still with the exception of the leaves rustled to create a soft chime with the overflowing bushes, and the hums of melody from the birds that flew above. Creatures were surrounding him; his small four-year-old body sitting on the floor of the forest in Istari robes, his hair pulled back in a clasp of a black tie. His emerald eyes dazzled behind closed lids as he raised his arm, which was adorned with the heir of Gondor, Mirkwood, Rivendell, and Gandalf the White rings. A fifth ring signified his Istari rank and his prince title of Arda. Five beautifully contrasting rings littered his fingers like buttons on a shirt; one of jaded leaf with a pure mithril M in a cursive display. One of pure mithril intertwined with a craving gentleness as it swooned a diamond crown with an R flowing around the king's crown. The third, upon his index finger, was a black band with a gem that held white and emerald mixed into the kindle. The fourth, handled as well on his index, could be called something akin to harmony. It was a pure Emerald stone that seemed to command. The initial A-E was marked onto the stone, for that meant Archir the Emerald, heir to Gandalf the White and prince to Arda. The final ring was on his middle finger, a branched out stone that curved a G in a loop at the end, a swirl of thumb print upon the middle. They had been given to him before they left, for Fawkes had flashed them to him before he left Middle Earth for good along with a few jars of blood and wood from Mirkwood. Atop Archir's head was also the last object given to him by the phoenix; His crown that symbolized who he was, the crown he had been given the day Aragorn was crowned King._

_As his hand moved to rest horizontally from his chest, his fingers lightly twitched. Pulling the feather of Fawkes from his bag, Archir tossed it into the air and, now with open eyes, watched the feather float into it paused suddenly in mid air, as if stranded and taken captive by an invisible force. Slowly, Archir twisted his fingers tither and hither, watching as the feather followed his movement until Archir took out the three jars. He was still amazed at the items in his hand. In the first jar was a dark red of sanguine; It was the blood of a man. To this, it meant the blood of power and guidance. Archir uncapped it and the scent of something foul hit his nose. Scrunching his nose up, he pulled out the wood from Mirkwood and let the blood drop inside. The feather went in with it. He uncorked the second jar; The blood of an elf who had given his life in battle. This represented healing and a strong sense of knowing. The elf had known he would die, and he had wanted to give up his blood for something worthy, according to the letter from Gandalf who had sent these with Fawkes. Archir bit his cheek before letting this heavenly flower scented blood dribble into the wood. As his magic took hold of his hands to create, the wood began shaping into a familiar form and Archir blinked as it solidified to make a pure golden staff. He nodded to himself, seeing that he was near done, and unscrewed the last jar. This one was smaller but was more significant. It was a bit of each of the four hobbits blood. Frodo, Sam, Pippin, and Merry had come to Gandalf when they had discovered that he was sending the ingrediants to forging Archir's new staff. This was the blood of a halfling, of the ring bearer and his companions. Four people that Archir had traveled with before meeting his daddy. Their blood represented friendship and strength. Had they known that this would be a far greater gift to Archir than anything, then they probably would be pleased. With a watery smile, Archir unknowingly blinked away his thankful tears onto the staff which emitted a bright green the minute that and the final ingredient touched it. As Archir's hands shot out a pure gold and white, the staff sprang forth the green of a freshly grown grass, rising to brighten. Archir closed his eyes tightly until the brightness died down and he looked at the object in awe. His staff was made and fully complete._

_In the place of what should have been a mess of blood, a feather, and wood was now a pure golden rod with a shine of emerald mixed in. At the top was an emerald stone shaped into a ball that had imprints of creatures from everywhere in middle earth. Around the ball was silver leaf shapes, flowing out from underneath. At the very top now stood a diamond crown. It was something Archir had never before seen in his life. It was amazing and Archir fingered it lightly. The minute his hand touched the staff, a light nearly brighter than the sun shot from him and hit the sky. He did not know that everyone in the entire Arda saw the sky light up with a semblance of happiness and fulfillment, nor did he know that his Papa smiled with a sense of fondness. Archir smiled, feeling complete again..._

As they rode for Minas Tirith the third day, Archir felt the sense of darkness come to foolishly attempt to claim him, but shrieked away when they encountered the light of the rank of a much more powerful enemy. On their last stop before they were to reach Archir's home, Glorfindel and the twins were sitting around a crackling fire with Archir resting in Elrohir's lap when something seemed to strike at them, a sort of dark aura that screamed revenge. Hedwig was stuck in the pocket of the saddle on Glorfindel's horse. The three horses were too far to reach.

"Be quick and leave with Archir at once!" Glorfindel yelled as the unknown enemy came closer. Before Elrohir could turn on his heels and run with a stirring child, a fire surrounded them, to their horror. Archir snapped awake and he looked around before calling his staff to him. The staff zoomed through the fire and landed in his hand, causing Elrohir to yelp and accidentally drop the child to the ground. Archir landed lightly on his feet and looked northward as Glorfindel ran over to him.

"You've certainly changed, though you are still a child." A voice tutted with disapproval as a shadowed figured stepped in through the closing fire. Glorfindel and the twins drew their swords but were immediately bound by a rope from nowhere, and pulled from their charge. They roared with fear as they struggled to reach Archir. In stepped a wizard cloaked in Blue, Alator. He had a light smirked upon his distorted face. He seemed to grow senile and spiteful by the minute as he saw the child clasping a new staff. He was furious that the child had his magic, for he had destroyed that stupid staff! How DARE that brat wield magic that should not belong to a boy. It belonged to a man!

"A child in body I am, but you are the child in mind." Archir said with a smirk back. Alator growled suddenly and raised his own staff and swung it forth, jabbing at Archir who brought his own up which evoked a shield. The sapphire spell bounced off and this provoked a snarl from Alator.

"You do not deserve to bare the power of magic." Alator said with a wave of his staff. Archir ducked the vicious spell and sent one of his own. Too blinded by his fury, Alator was hit and he winced slightly at the tear in his legimen. He drew a spell out and doubled it. Unable to dodge, Archir hissed in pain as he was hit with one of the two spells, causing his left arm to dribble with blood. Glorfindel squawked with rage and he struggled all the more to reach his lord's grandson. Elrohir and Elladan were doing the same.

"All the same, I have power and I'm quite liked by Fate," Archir said with a casual lopsided grin that seemed to enrage the blue wizard. Glorfindel and the twins watched with a sort of horrendous fascination as the blue wizard and green wizard fought each other. Rays of color swarmed the area, intending to hit the opponent. Archir was becoming rather graceful despite the newly made cut across his cheek where the former scar from his kidnapping had been, making it deepen with pain. Archir concentrated for a moment.

_Breathe Harry, Breathe. _Archir thought inwardly and he suddenly realized that he called himself Harry. Was this stopping him from reaching the rest of his magic? He knew that half of his magic was locked away when he came to Middle Earth, he had been told. He had never really stopped thinking himself of as Harry James Potter. The Boy-Who-Lived. The Chosen One... He wasn't Harry anymore. He was Archir the Emerald, right? Yet a small piece couldn't bare that thought.

Ducking again, Archir bit his bleeding lip as he forced himself to bring back all those memories that Glorfindel helped him through. The painful ones and the good ones. Hermione and Ron laughing with Harry in Honeydukes, Malfoy bleeding because of the Half Blood's spell, Dumbledore falling, Getting his Hogwarts letter, Seeing his parents for the first time in a Graveyard, Battling Voldemort, Meeting Ginny, Kissing Cho... Searching through his memories as he dueled, Harry realized that a small part of him had never wanted to give it up. That life of endless torture. Yet, he was happy here. He belonged in Middle Earth more than anything. Sure people saw him as their hope, but they didn't see him as their savior. They saw him as a child and they saw him as someone else. He had a family waiting for him... He would never be Harry again and Archir realized something right there as a dark spell hit him. He wanted to never be Harry again...

The spell bursted into an emerald light instead of blue, causing Alator to pause. His eyes widened as the light surrounding Archir funneled towards him. The light slammed into the blue Istari's chest before he felt every pain from the little boy ever caused. He saw memories of a black-haired teenager as he fought valiantly against a snake-faced man. Alator felt himself as if he were falling and he closed his eyes as he felt the life leave his body. As he hit the ground, he knew no more...

Archir stared at the fallen wizard. So quick had this ended, this threat, that Archir wondered if it had been for real. He wouldn't ever be safe, with the orcs out there and the fact that Saruman lived (though expelled from the area). Walking over to his minders, he untied the ropes and was engulfed into an embraced by Glorfindel who immediately checked over his injuries. The twins were gaping at him.

"You, my dear nephew, sure know how to take an enemy down," Elladan joked as he hugged the little boy once Glorfindel loosened up. Archir grinned at him.

"Well..." Elrohir coughed, "I think now that the battle was over, we shall be quick enough to make it to Minas Tirith. I bet Aragorn is going absolutely mad with impatience."

"Such an immature king he is," Elladan said with a mock shake of his head. Archir giggled and allowed Glorfindel to take him into his arms as they mounted their horses and rode forth for Minas Tirith once more. One more day they were away from seeing them all again. With a yawn, Archir drifted off to the steady running of the horses. Glorfindel smiled, humming a lullaby he had created for Archir a fortnight ago. They were almost there...

**Author's Note: Fun chapter to write. Were you happy to hear the loose end of Fawkes and Harry's wand resolved? That the Fellowship now break up for good and return to their homes? Alator has been defeated and that was rather quick I know. He wasn't all that good. Just thought I'd point out the lack of reviews really don't encourage me to think people even like this story all that much. I have over 500 SUBSCRIBERS but only like 5 percent will review per chapter. Lazy people, the lot of them. I'm probably way late to be finally responding to this but all well;**

**O, be some other name!**

**What's in a name? That which we call a rose**

**By any other word would smell as sweet.**

**So Romeo would, were he not Romeo called,**

**Retain that dear perfection which he owes**

**Without that title. **

**Cough. Now that I have just recited one of the biggest set of books I despise (Reason? In English when we read Shakespeare, I can understand exactly what they are SAYING! Therefore its just another romance book to me and therefore yet I say to thee... BORING. Sorry all those Romeo fans out there but I'll stick to Harry Potter and Lord of the Rings. Much better to me. No bold romance like Twilight is. May have written a fanfic about one, but that is just for kicks.) I will kindly say to you that I WANTED to change his name and Archir was a name that would fit in Middle Earth more commonly rather than Harry. Each author has a different set of personality at the very least. Chew on that for awhile.**


	22. Home At Last

**Ring Child**

**by Kiamii**

**Chapter Twenty Two "Home At Last"**

Archir stirred to the sound of rushed, happy voices that included his name being mentioned in the same sentence as things like "Prince" which made him subconsciously crinkle his nose. Why must they refer to him as a prince? The thought was not pleasant and the boy turned his thoughts to waking himself up more. Archir was vaguely aware of a hand running through his hair and the soft rhythm of being carried, considering he bounced a little. Unclosing his emerald eyes, he looked up to see that he was in the arms of Glorfindel and the people chattering were men and women around them as Glorfindel carried him. Men of various ages would look at Archir with wonder, the women nearly cooing at him. It took the boy a minute or two before comprehension dawned and he realized they were finally in Minas Tirith and taking the walk up to the place of which his father resided in. Archir squirmed a little and this alerted the elf's senses. Glorfindel chuckled and adjusted Archir to sit upon his hip. Archir wrapped his arms around Glorfindel's neck as the twins walked beside them. The crowd dispersed as they continued walking.

"The horses have been left in a side stable," Elrohir explained to Archir curious gazes of inquiry.

"Just another turn or two and we _will_ be there," Elladan said, "and _you _are a lucky little orc to have slept all that time that we went through security. If not for the crown upon _your_ head and the rings upon _your_ hands, then **we** would have been there longer." Here he ruffled Archir's hair, who protested of course at the antic.

"Well he_ is _royalty," Glorfindel teased as he lightly tapped Archir's nose. The little boy smiled at the three, putting his head against Glorfindel's shoulder and letting the arm in front to drop so that he could lightly suck on it. Elladan and Elrohir grinned at the childish antics. Archir took note of the fact that his staff was being carried by Elrohir as if made of glass, which relieved him. Elrohir saw the look and chuckled.

"Mithrandir would have our heads if we did not take caution of your Istari staff, especially as the last one had been destroyed." Elrohir said as he reached over and lightly tousled Archir's black locks once again. Elladan grinned as well, holding Hedwig in his arms gently. The phoenix was content to nestle against the elf's warm chest. Archir shook his head to get rid of the hand before resettling again. As they walked, Elrohir and Elladan talked about many things that would be considered highly amusing to many, and inappropriate to a child's young ears, which was probably the reason that young Archir's ears were a bright red, as well as his face. Some of the intense topics were rather... inventive in ways to have fun, as Elladan had put it.

"Hush now you two," Glorfindel scolded as he bounced Archir on his hip slightly to ease the boy. As always, the movement distracted Archir who could not for the life of him understand as to why he was always amused by this antic. As he was concentrated on the action, Glorfindel adjusted Archir to keep the lad from falling off his hip._ One more turn..._ Glorfindel swiftly turned on his feet to take a right and he broke into a wide eye crinkling smile. As Glorfindel stopped the small bouncing, Archir looked up and he stared ahead of him, a light and blank face kept upon to replace his emotions. Glorfindel, sensing his young charge's uneasiness, set him upon his feet. Unsteady from not walking for so long, Archir stood still for a minute to study his two fathers and mother who were directly in front of him, smiling warmly. Aragorn knelt down and unclasped his arms to gesture for Archir, his arms wide open.

That was all it took.

Archir ran forward and he leaped into his daddy's arms, his own wrapping around the man's neck. Archir buried his head into Aragorn's neck, shaking. All the emotions he had locked away after being taken, all the sobs he had not had when he found himself tortured; Archir began to let the crystals of water rivet down his small cheeks as he began to tear up and bawl. His eyes stung as he wept and moistened Aragorn's shirt. The man cared not for his fabric of cloth, but for the fact that his precious little boy was upset.

"Daddy," Archir cried slightly, "I've missed you too much!!"

"Alas, I have missed you more than I could have ever dreamt to be possible, my son." Aragorn said to his son, wrapping his arms around Archir's waist and resting a hand lightly against Archir's head, making small shush noises to comfort and quiet his child. Aragorn rocked Archir slightly, pressing his lips to Archir's small black tousle of hair. The scent of evergreen and forest hit Aragorn this time when it accompanied his son's smell. Aragorn smiled, for it reminded him of his childhood home. Learning that Archir had been in Rivendell made Aragorn wonder what all took place for Archir under the care of Estel and Glorfindel!

"Glorfindel!" Aragorn said in surprise. Glorfindel grinned, though he was always reminded by how grown the man was by the formal name returning. He saw so much of Estel in little Archir (though they were not related by blood, they were by heart) and Glorfindel was at least content to see that.

"Lord Elrond wished me to accompany Archir on his fine journey to his home, while his twin uncles serenaded their life about like a bunch of elflings!" Glorfindel said with a tease. The twins yelped their indignation which caused a chuckle from their brother-in-law (and before that was semi-adopted brother). Aragorn stood up and cradled his little boy to him, missing the warmth that this brought. His eyes sparked with an intensity that could outshine any other (of course, with the exception of the late Albus Dumbledore). When young Archir blinked away the last of his tears, he looked up at his father with a smile before he turned his head to Legolas. Extending his small hand out, he reached for his Ada who immediately was at his side and stealing him from his friend's arms. He kissed his tithen pen on the cheek as he bundled Archir up in his arms. Archir closed his eyes, relaxed.

"We have a surprise for you, pen-nin tithen," Arwen said with a graceful smile as she rested her hand lightly against Archir's cheek. Archir leaned against her touch in contentment, relishing the feelings of warmth he got when she touched him. He allowed his Ada to swiftly spin him around before carrying him down the hall. Looking around, Archir smiled shyly at the workers who all waved cheerfully at him for a welcome back. Archir felt his Ada set him on his feet in front of the closed door that held a plaque "Archir's Room" on it. He looked up at Legolas in confusion before he was encouraged to open the door. Slowly, Archir turned the knob... and he almost was blown away in stunned silence. The room he had left behind was no longer there, and it looked like a candy shop and toy store ran it over. Walking in hesitantly, Archir looked around at the room. It was colored a deep blue with bright yellow long shelves hung on the wall, aligned with hand-crafted wooden blocks that were painted various bright colors. There were wooden toy soldiers and various toys that filled the room. In the center, towards the back, was a large king-sized bed with drapery of a dark green. The linens and bedspread were red, while the pillows were light blue. On the nightstand next to the bed displayed a bright candle stand with a design of a horse. Aragorn swiftly scooped his son up and deposited Archir on the bed as the child looked at the other side. There was a bookcase next to the long and wide open window that which held yellow curtains. There was a door and leading into it was a walk-in closet filled to the brim with clothes of every variety possible. Archir's eyes bulged and his mouth was gaping.

"I daresay, a fly will stumbled into your mouth," Legolas commented and Archir blushed before closing his mouth.

"It's... It's... It's just... wow." Archir stammered, trying to find words to compose how he felt at this moment. Aragorn leaned over and put his hands over Archir, causing the little boy to fall on his back. Pinning his son there, Aragorn smirked before he proceeded to wriggle his fingers this way and that into Archir's stomach. Archir, unable to help the fall of laughter, giggled quite uncontrollably as he was tickled. Legolas joined in and Arwen could only watch this with a shake of her head, looking at them in amusement.

"AA-AD-D-D-AA-A! D-Da-aa-ddy-y! T-Ti-ic-ckles-s!" Archir giggled out, trying to squirm away from the two. This proceeded to carry on for quite sometime until they stopped and grinned as the 4-year-old Istari child rolled over on his stomach in an attempt to settle his uneven breathing. He was smiling widely though, the effects of the laughter having succeeded.

"So, should I comprehend that our son finds the new decor... adequate?" Arwen said with an amused smile to hide how she was feeling.

"I daresay, m`lady, I will agree with you on your inquiries," Aragorn said in mock serious before the couple turned to their adopted son who looked at them with a silly little smile on his face. He lept off the bed and ran over to Arwen who lifted him up. He gave her a kiss on her cheek and hugged her.

"I love this room mama," Archir said seriously, smiling with his eyes more than his lips. Arwen chuckled and kissed Archir on the forehead before sitting him on the bed and stepping back.

"Now that the first surprise is over, how about a gift from your Granddad Elrond who found himself unable to give you this present. From Legolas' father and mine," Arwen introduced playfully and Archir's eyes rounded like Christmas ornaments when a dog came rushing into the room so fast the dog nearly trampled Archir as it jumped on the bed to land next to him. Archir hesitated, only having met one dog which was actually human, before putting his small hand on the fur. The dog nuzzled Archir's knee and the child let out a shy smile at the dog.

"This playful mutt is a male," Legolas coughed, "and you are free to name him any of which you please. I was told you own a bird, Hedwig. She will be taken care of with royalty and frailness." Archir's eyes lit up when he heard that and he turned back to the dog and studied the black fur and small white paws. A memory of Sirius Black with his bark-like laugh came back to Archir who paused before shrugging to himself so slightly that his parents did not notice. Staring into the dark eyes of the dog, he nodded to himself.

"I'll call him Sirius," Archir finally said. His parents were quiet, sensing there was a meaning behind the name. Archir smiled and let Sirius lick his hand with merriment. Closing his eyes, he let his daddy pick him back up and carry him away to the grand hall. As he rested his head against the shoulder, he smiled the whole time. Everything went rather smoothly in the weeks to follow. During so, Hedwig grew to be an adult Phoenix and would flash around tither and hither. Frodo and the hobbits left for the Shire alone and with a few magical protections created by Archir. Gandalf stayed with them in Minas Tirith for awhile, teaching Archir about his magic as they would progress when Archir reached a certain age. Also what had taken place was Archir creating a handful of his fist-sized crystal ornaments with a name magically carved in. They became to be known as communicators as Archir managed to make them so that they were similar to the mirrors in his old world. He gave one to Frodo, Sam, Pippin, and Merry when they set out, and today he gave away two; One to Gimli and to Legolas.

The air was crisp with the setting of the sun that day. There was a small crowd of people at the entrance of the home of Aragorn. As Legolas mounted his horse (for they had been brought up for them to ride through the city of Minas Tirith), Gimli on behind, he took one long moment to gaze upon Archir, his own crystallized ball gripped in his hand. Archir, in the arms of his papa Gandalf, looked upon his Ada with a smile. Reaching a hand upwards to rest lightly on Legolas drooped hand, he squeezed the thumb. Legolas chuckled at the antic and gave a gentle squeeze back. He'd see him again soon, and they could communicate.

"Goodbye ion nin, I shall see you soon when Gimli and I have traveled our goals till we bring forth an outcome. Hopefully one of good fortune." Legolas said with a grin. Archir giggled as Gimli grunted something about elves and trees. Most likely his usual playful insult if Legolas' whacking his friend on the head was anything to go by. Legolas readied himself before his horse took a slow jog off, picking up the pace. Gandalf placed him on the ground and Archir waved as the horse disappeared from view. Legolas turned around to see the words mouthed "I love you Ada and Uncle Gimli" towards the two of them and he left with a smile. He'd see his son again.

Once out of sight, Archir turned around to face Gandalf who was the only one on the path. The elderly wizard leaned on his staff with a tired look, clothed in his pearly and dazzling robes once more. His hat was back upon his head, only a piece of it was tied off with a small emerald stripe. This caught Archir's eye but he knew what was to come. He frowned at his papa. He didn't want Gandalf to leave. It was too soon. Tears welled up in Archir's eyes and he hastily rubbed them away. Seeing that he had this boy's attention, the aging old wizard knelt down and placed his lips upon the forehead of his student and heir. Archir gave Gandalf a watery smile, knowing what was to come.

"You have to leave again, don't you?" Archir asked softly, trying to dry his eyes. Gandalf cupped his face and used his thumb to rid of the tears. Archir pulled out the ornament he had crafted for Gandalf for his departure and handed it to his Papa. The ornament was different the others. Unlike the pale snow white color they held, this one was emerald dark green and held a forest-like tree instead of the snowflake. Gandalf's name was crafted in childish handwriting. Gandalf smiled, touched by the present.

"Yes, my child, I must embark upon a journey to further my mission. When complete, in four years, will I return. Fear not, littlun, for your methods of communication has far been an improvement from many olden ways before. I will call forth you whenever I seek to rest." Gandalf said firmly before he gazed at the bright emerald eyes for a moment, "You have changed so much from the child I found in Rivendell. So much..."

"I met you, Papa." Archir said with a lopsided grin, "Even though I have faced morals of evil, abandoned in helpless times, and wandered through lonely moments; I now have a home that I can return to. A family I call my own. Not just a father, but two and a mother do I know hold with me. I was alone and weak for many years before, until you gave me something I had desperately needed... I thank you Papa. You've given to me what others could never hope to try and send to me." Gandalf smiled at the child.

"And this special something that which we have gifted to you is?" He asked, amused. The old Istari's eyes sparked with a shine of his own entertainment and fondness for his student and heir.

"Love," Archir answered, "The gift to love and be loved."

"Indeed," Gandalf mused with a chuckle before he nodded and wrapped his arms around Archir who returned the embrace, "I must be going Archir... I will be here once more on the eve of four summers. Until then... I will miss you my child."

"I love you Papa. Take care," Archir said seriously, his arms around the older man's neck. Gandalf stood up and mounted his white horse, Shadowfax, who neighed a goodbye to the four-year-old boy and took off in the distance. Archir watched them from afar before he turned around and ran up the path.

"Daddy!" Archir shouted and he jumped up. Aragorn, having spotted his son, swept the little boy up into his arms, spinning him around and caressing his head with a loving and fond smile. Archir rested his head lightly on the man's shoulder, watching the sun set. The sun had taken to a benevolent and warming scarlet color as it drifted down into the core of the world, the ever florescent moon waning its way up in the sky, awaiting the turn to attempt to outshine its brotheren. The trees around the city blew with a grace of happiness, exuberance, and peace. It had been awhile since the forest had found joy such as the quiet traveling affairs. The birds above swayed with a humming melody and the clouds drifted lazily in the sun. Feeling the wind sweep up his hair, Archir smiled, closing his eyes as Aragorn rocked him tither and hither slightly, a hand on the back of his head to toy with the long black hair of his.

"They will all meet up again with us," Aragorn commented lightly.

"Yeah..." Archir murmured drowsily. Aragorn noticed and looked amused.

"Glad to be back?" Aragorn inquired. Archir nodded mutely for a moment or two, marveling in the unspoken nature that called to him. The way that the wind seemed to send Archir a message, as if telling him something fairly important. Archir turned his wet emerald eyes on his father who placed a kiss on the crown of his son's forehead. Without the crowns and formal attire on the two, they looked just like any other family. They were just father and son, and that's all that mattered to Archir. Looking up at a waning cloud, Archir smiled again, only this time it was filled with exhaustion, but contentment. Something he had always wanted had come true, though he felt a little part of him whine in unease, he knew he wouldn't have this any other way. He was back and here to stay.

"Glad to be home," Archir corrected and Aragorn grinned as his son fell asleep. His stood there for a moment before journeying back up to the castle where he would tuck Archir into bed of the colorful and brightly lit room (courtesy of his lovely wife) and would forever watch over his son. Even though he'd been through hell and back by now, Archir would forever be his baby boy. Aragorn smiled as he carried his child to his room and rested the covers around the four-year-old's small frame and ran a hand fondly through his son's hair as he watched over him that night. He was home for good. He was home at last.

**Author's Note: This Two more adventures go on and they're somewhat short. I might make up an entire chapter for one of the adventures. Possibly longer, depending on my good mood, the reviewers, and my muse. I was laughing so hard when I finally realized I put a spoiler to this chapter in my note from last chapter. I had intended to add in the reunion of Archir and his family last chapter but changed my mind and forgot to take that part out of the note. Drat. I'll be careful next time... How many of you had tears in your eyes? I was grinning like a fool when I began this chapter. I think something that made me stare incredulously at my computer was the sheer amount of people who are reading this story are from another country! I'm a dunderhead that I forget that English isn't the only language in the universe. So thankyou to many who sent me a review or pm to tell me they liked this story. Although this is advice I learned the hardway; Don't fully rely on a translator to translate paragraphs. It leads to everything becomming mingled with. So now Archir has a puppy named Sirius, has a candy-shop designed room sort of, is back with his family, and is a prince. Dun. Dun. DUN!!  
**


	23. The Gift

**Ring Child**

**by Kiamii**

**Chapter Twenty Three "The Gift"**

"AH! Archir watch out!!!!" A young voice cried out as he saw the rouge ball hurl towards the distracted boy. The eight-year-old Prince turned his head to see the flying object and he immediately groaned and ran backwards, twisting his body this way and that to get on step before he jumped up and let the ball hit him squarely in the stomach, uncaring if he would later get scolded by his father, the King of Gondor, for allowing something such as an object come at him like a missile, hitting the exact spot that he had been stabbed at four years ago. His fathers and mother were rather overprotective of their only son and child. Archir the Emerald, son of the Prince of Mirkwood and the King of Gondor, landed lightly on the ground and spun the ball in his hand, showing the he had been in this sort of event often enough.

"Thanks Arch," a relieved boy of ten panted out as he ran over to the young prince (mindfully taking note of any injuries that may have befallen upon the boy for he did not wish to have to explain to the King of Gondor how Archir came upon any injuries) and took the ball back with a grin. Archir rolled his eyes, sharing the same lopsided grin with his friend. Shade failed to notice the bruise on his forehead from Archir's own activities.

"You have a way with flying objects, that you do my dear Shade," Archir drawled, earning himself a light punch to the arm.

"As well as you, my prince, to always be in the line of targeting victims," Shade countered back with a mock light bow. Archir's cheeks puffed only out of habit. Many of his friends used the 'my prince' comment with him. Of course, what followed a positive always was the company of a negative. While he had friends, he had back-stabbing children in his age group of 'play-mates' (for Archir's fathers would never allow any harm to befall their only son, they took all cautions to making sure he was safe and had someone to play with his age). It was common after all for some to be jealous and some to be in awe simply because as a wizard AND the heir to more than three thrones, he seemed to have assembled a reputation to boot with a childhood of his own. Being mentally twenty-one didn't help matters at all with his quirky and vast amount of knowledge that astounded the children and bewildered the adults. Archir stood now at 43 inches (just four inches off of the average height of a boy his age!) and now came to a weight of 55 pounds. While he was still shorter than an eight year old should be, and he was underweight, He wasn't as bad off as he was before all this. His family was immensely pleased when Archir suddenly developed a keen sense of an appetite, meaning he actually _wanted_ to eat. Of course, his mother put a stop to him attempting to run off a supply of sugary sweets that the cooks had baked. Archir slept shorter than most kids, and he was still able to make it through the day though his mother invoked that he took a mid-afternoon nap when Archir was four and while he still had to do so, at least he could stay up later in the night. Some things, Arwen and Aragorn put Archir through should have been for small children, but Archir knew they were trying to make up for his lack of childhood. A trait that was rather troubling to deal with that he attained from being eight was; He was impatient.

"Have you discovered where Isabell is, Emeralds?" Shade asked. Archir looked at his friend before shrugging and pointing his thumb behind him. Emeralds had been the nickname that started with Frodo but began to become his name among friends considering his father was King Elessar and his mother was Queen Evanstar. Many got a kick out of the informal names Aragorn, Arwen, and Archir and therefore called him Prince Emeralds. Mostly it had to do with intense eye color and wizarding rank. Shade laughed and bid goodbye before running off to seek out his younger sister. Speaking of which... Archir grinned and took off for his home, the castle and location of the heart of Gondor. He made it to the front doors, blushed at the chuckles of the guards (who had been added there ever since Archir's kidnapping four years to this day) and cautiously entered the hall. Archir grinned as he noted his dog Sirius was lazily lounging on his bed as usual. Hoping not to be seen, he slipped into his room to remove his outer layers that were covered in dirt and mud from his outdoor activities today. Just as he was shaking off his shirt, he heard his door open and he froze.

"How did I know that you would be trying to hide this again?" A groaning voice entered his room. Archir turned around, his arms in the shirt still, to see his primary father and the king of Gondor, Aragorn (Elessar). Archir gave him a sheepish grin as his father came over and took away his shirt and jacket. Getting out of his trousers, Archir found another pair and looked through the closet for a shirt. He settled for a light blue one with an A on the upper right chest.

"Sorry daddy, Shade threw the ball and I was in his line of sight... again." Archir explained while he pulled on the shirt. Aragorn placed the dirty clothes in the hamper that had been crafted for Archir.

"I wonder if he is doing so with intent," Aragorn drawled. Archir paused in buttoning up his trousers to look at his dad in amusement.

"Of course he does so with intent, mainly because he knows I know," Archir said with a lopsided grin. Aragorn rolled his eyes and ruffled Archir's short black hair. A rather peculiar discovery was that Archir now had soft hints of dark red in his hair. They had decided to give his hair a trim so that Archir's hair was at the back of his neck instead of to his shoulders as they tended to grow to. Archir stuck his tongue out at Aragorn before he pulled on his green jacket. Aragorn found Archir's brush and stopped his son by putting a hand on his shoulder, brushing the boy's hair. Archir was thankful that his bangs hid the bruise on his forehead. No need for Aragorn to see that or he'd scold Archir and ban him temporarily from playing outdoors with others. Something Archir knew would later be founded as the idea of grounding, something Archir despised.

"Daddy! My hair is fine!" Archir protested.

"I beg to differ. You're birthday celebration is tonight and I will not allow leave for you should you go out with your hair running around on your head like a jungle." Aragorn said with a grin. He put the brush down, putting the hair back with a clasp, and hugged his son.

"Is Papa coming tonight?" Archir asked as he fixed his jacket and ran a hand through his hair by habit, thankfully not undoing the clasp so that it stayed neatly... For now. He looked up at his father who was silently chuckling at the boy's antics. Archir's Papa, Gandalf, was hardly able to communicate with the little boy as much as they'd like, considering he was working on something that he could tell no one. So the thought of seeing him again excited the Emerald Istari.

"A wizard's promise is always fulfilled, or so he tells me," He said wryly as he shook his head and looked at his son with a fond smile. Over the four years of Archir's ever-growing childhood, the boy became a little immature, but a little more mature at the same time. He was a boy who knew his bounds, though he attempted to break them like any other 8-year-old would at that. Archir still knew when not to cross the line and when he had earned himself a night of being scolded for some of his rather... adventurous nights. Archir's Cookie Heist was one, Aragorn remembered dryly. He remembered the amount of cookies that his son had tried to eat after taking them from the cook. As punishment, the guards decided to make Archir stay up for five nights in a row, no sleep at all. The poor boy was only five at the time and was very... cranky... during that horrendous week. The child passed out in his bed around the fifth day and would not wake up for quite some time. Aragorn, while normally panicked with worry, had understood and let his son sleep in finally. Archir had promised heavily never to do that again.

"Will I see Frodo again?" Archir asked with a hopeful look to his father. Aragorn sat on the bed and Archir allowed the man to pull him up onto his lap, simply having his arms around the 8-year-old and rocking him to and fro for a moment or two before he answered.

"He plans to attend this evening as well," Aragorn answered back. While Archir communicated with the Hobbits and his mentor as much as he could, they all missed each other's company and presence. Since Legolas had begun to act somewhat jumpy as of late, he had decided to make a grand birthday celebration for his son, and the former Company would be returning for this grand night. Archir's friends would be here as well, and his family and more to come. He was still dubbed as the Prince of Arda, to Archir's embarrassment.

"I will be taller than him at last," Archir said cheekily. Aragorn wriggled his fingers in Archir's side, taking amusement in the shriek from his son before he stopped.

"Yet height has never been in your favor so I suppose Frodo may have been the one to grow," Aragorn teased. Archir pouted at his father before allowing the kiss to his cheek as Aragorn took his leave. A maid came in to take his dirty clothes, gave the young prince a bow, and left. Archir sighed before he remembered what he had been planning and he took off from his room and for the master bedroom. Pausing to catch his breath in front of the door, he turned the knob and warily entered. Peaking his head in, he found his mother and the Queen of Gondor, Arwen (Evanstar). She was sitting on the bed with her hand to her bulging stomach, something that made Archir all bubbly. He walked in at his mother's beckoning and crawled up on the bed. Arwen chuckled at her son's curious look. When they had first told Archir that he'd be a big brother, the little boy had been ecstatic and would always check in on his mother, wanting to watch as his mother got bigger and he could tell that there was another life in her.

"Just a few more months sweetie," Arwen said with a smile as she wrapped an arm around Archir. Archir leaned into her hold, putting his own small hand on her stomach. He felt a pressure on his hand and he smiled widely. He was going to have a new baby sister, as he had found out using magic.

"Do you have a name for her?" Archir asked curiously.

"I was hoping you would give her one," Arwen said with a kiss to her son's forehead. The eight-year-old looked thoughtful.

"How about Evain?" Archir suggested. Arwen thought about it. Evain? Spirit...

"I think that would satisfy your father," Arwen laughed and she pulled Archir on her lap. Even at eight, he was small enough to be carried. She looked at Archir for a moment before brushing away his bangs and she fixed a stern glare at her son as she took note of the bruise upon the boy's forehead.

"A fight once more have you been in, with Gimli I suspect," she said accusingly. Archir gave her a sheepish smile.

"Gimli was teaching me how to carve into mithril... and I got hit in the face when we ended up having a mock battle. Sorry mama." Archir apologized. Arwen sighed and caressed his cheek. Archir closed his eyes momentarily, feeling her loving touch.

"You've grown to be a strong young man, my little one." Arwen commented lightly. Archir blushed and his smile turned embarrassed before he kissed her on the cheek and bid good day as he exited the room. He paused as he heard the blaring of trumpets, and his face stretched to a grin. He took off down the hall, ignoring the guards' fond yells to slow down as usual, and reached the front hall with a whoop. He slid down the ending rail and landed on his two feet right when the hall doors opened to reveal his two grandfathers; Thranduil and Elrond with Legolas and Aragorn. His daddy turned to look at him and nearly groaned in exasperation. Archir's hair returned to that windblown state.

"Well if it isn't our young Prince!" Thranduil teased lightly as he walked over to his grandson and swiftly lifted the 8-year-old up into his arms and on his hip. Archir puffed his cheeks at being held but he let it be in favor of giving his grandfather a hug. Elrond came over and stole Archir from Thranduil, engulfing his grandson in his own embrace.

"You've grown," Thranduil observed. Archir grinned brightly at him and nodded.

"He has also caused more trouble than our dear Elladan and Elrohir, of a different sort though." Aragorn said with amusement.

"And tonight is your ninth birthday, pen-nin tithen," Legolas said. Glorfindel and Erestor entered the room and Archir whooped before he wriggled out of Elrond's grasp and ran over to them.

"I remember as if it were yesterday, seeing you as a tiny little toddler in my arms. My, how you've differed." Aragorn said in mock tears.

"I can't remain small forever daddy." Archir said with a cheeky grin.

"Though he still calls him daddy," Elrond muttered before rolling his eyes with a light smile. Aragorn shook his head fondly before going over to his son and tugging at the back of his shirt.

"Why don't you shoo away to contact Frodo and find out where the hobbits are?" Aragorn suggested. Archir nodded and obediantly took off for his room. He did not see his family laughing as he nearly collided with a rather pretty young maid who always got flustered around him. Instead, he reached his room and pulled out his own delicate orb of which was emerald green and in the shape of a star, hanging off his wall. Archir tapped it lightly and said Frodo's name.

"Ah! Well if it isn't our dear little Prince," Pippin's voice came into the background as Frodo appeared, whacking his friend on the head.

"Hullo Archir," Sam greeted as he saw the boy, peeping over Frodo's shoulder.

"Hi Sam! Pippin! Merry! Frodo! Daddy wants to know how long until you all arrive," Archir inquired, toeing Sirius to move his little furry self. The dog grunted and did so, nudging Archir until the boy fell. Archir glared at his dog before standing up, ignoring the snickers from Pippin and Merry.

"We shall be there within the hour, as I expect so. Gandalf went ahead of us, so I am unsure if he will arrive before us or with us." Frodo said, somewhat irritated at the wizard though amused by the Istari's antics of always going ahead. Archir grinned and bid good day before Legolas (dressed in his formal suit) appeared in his room some moments later, holding up something Archir mostly detested. His dress clothes.

"Ada," Archir started to protest.

"Ion nin, you are not going to get away with not wearing your formal attire this time." Legolas said sternly and Archir pouted but stood still as his father knelt down and reached up to unbutton the top. Archir shifted slightly as Legolas pulled it off, his hands following upward, and his father spotted the bruise on his forehead. An arched eyebrow provoked Legolas' features before he ran a hand lightly over the bruise, frowning when his son blanched at the touch on his injury. Legolas picked Archir up, finding this task easy as his son was light, and began to carry him on his hip.

"Must you seek trouble as such, tithen pen?" Legolas sighed. Archir grinned sheepishly but began to protest as his father dragged him to his private washroom and stood him on the ground before adjusting the taps, starting a bath.

"Ada, I'm nearly nine!" Archir defended as his father began to undo his trousers.

"You forget Archir, that in elven years that is still an elfling, though you are a wizard and in Istari years, that is pretty much the same." Legolas teased and he lifted Archir up into the bath and began to look for the salve he had stocked up in the boy's bathroom. After cleaning his son up, Legolas applied the salve to Archir's forehead who sulked as he sat in a robe on his bed. Aragorn came in, his own attire worn just as prim and proper, and smirked at his pouting son, but sighed as he saw the healing salve being applied.

"Gimli was -" Archir tried to explain but Legolas cut him off with his mutterings.

"That dwarf is going to get you killed one of these days. I should string him up with an arrow in the archery next should I see him try to harm my little one again," Legolas muttered darkly. Archir blushed and gave a sheepish grin to his dad.

"Ada, Daddy, do I HAVE to wear this?" Archir whined as the two fathers unclothed him and began to help get him dressed in the formal attire that was somewhat complex in the making of dressing. Archir stood before them in emerald robes that were crafted by maidens last year at his eighth birthday, which had been considerably less formal. As Archir was in front of them, the two saw how much their little boy looked like a young Prince and powerful wizard. His hair was unclasped and now dried, thanks to some magic from the boy. The hair was short and gave him a somewhat teen look, though at least formal and not as unruly. The crown that was crafted four years ago was now atop his head, shining proudly and boldly. Around his torso was a black shirt with emerald trimmings and an A on the back. Covering the shirt was a dark emerald robe that was buttoned in the middle. The robes fluttered down to his ankles and he wore black pants. He still looked like a child, through his casual clothes underneath that showed.

"You can wear it like that then," Aragorn said with a quirked eyebrow.

"Dinner is at the sunset and cake is an hour after wards." Legolas reminded him as they took the walk back to the main hall. Arwen met up with them in her formal attire. She was wearing a long slim blue dress with elven silk fluttering over. Her stomach still popped, but the dress was measured properly and sewn to allow room in that area. She kissed her son on the head and laughed as Archir's dog Sirius ran past them and towards Elrond who chuckled. Archir took a quick scan around the room to see that the area was already filling up while he had been dressing. There was a table of refreshments and the adults all gave their good wishes to the Prince. Archir soon found his friend Shade with his other friend, Alex. The other boy was taller than Archir by a foot or so and was turning ten in a month.

"Well if it isn't our dear beloved Prince Emerald!" Alex said jokingly.

"In the flesh," Archir said dryly as he clapped his friend on the back. Alex simply grinned and wished his friend a happy birthday.

"You're finally my age!" Alex said dramatically, clutching his hand to his chest with an over the top shocked mask upon his handsome features. Alex was blonde-haired and blue-eyed with a thin line of muscles from helping his father out with chopping wood and the likes. He currently wore fine slacks with a blue shirt, a black dinner coat over it and his hair was mused up on the boy's head. He had taken a liking immediately to Archir and the two boys could be seen messing around in the city with a crafted ball. Shade was about a half foot taller than Alex and had brown hair that curled to his ears. He had piercing brown eyes and a wide-spread grin across his sharp features. He preferred to play around with the ball and aimed at Archir, always taken by amazement when the younger boy managed to catch it. He was more serious than Alex, but he still had his joker side that attuned to his nature. He felt like Archir's big brother whenever there were unfriendly children who felt the need to try and either harm the prince of Gondor or insult him to the degree that it actually got to Archir. One unkind moment had been a rather rude comment from a stocky boy who told Archir that his fathers only felt sorry for him and that he shouldn't be in the city of men, when he wasn't even a man. He was a wizard. Archir had nearly shut himself down until his fathers and mother noticed and strongly reminded him that he was loved because he was Archir, not because he was a wizard or anything of that nature!

Archir graced the two boys with a roll of his eyes before he felt someone press their finger into the knob of his back and Archir turned around to see someone who made his heart nearly stop. Gandalf the White was chuckling right in front of him. Archir broke out into a wide grin and jumped at the elderly man, uncaring if his hair was tousled along the way. He vaguely heard Aragorn grumbling about his hair, as Legolas chuckled good-naturally, telling the king to calm himself because it was bound to happen. Archir felt arms encircle his small waist and pull him to the wizard's chest. Burrowing his face into the white silk robes, he was very much pleased to see his mentor.

"I've miss you one too much, Papa!" Archir nearly whined, but he spoke in a soft tone. Gandalf pressed his lips to the top of the young prince before stepping back to inspect his student.

"You've grown," Gandalf commented lightly, "and how I am satisfied with the changes on you, such as the fact that your stomach is now plumped with at the very least some food."

"We've attempted one times too many to fatten him up. The results are always a few pounds added, but never a good amount." Aragorn grumbled.

"Perhaps I was just born to be this way," Archir suggested.

"Short and Scrawny?" Alex piped up. Archir glared at his friend as the adults chuckled at the notion. That night, the party was filled with much enjoyment. Cake was served and presents were given to the boy.

Aragorn looked around and he had to chuckle lightly as he saw an almost rare seen now that he had grown up. Archir was asleep at the table, his head in his crossed arms as he slept next to the finished and cleared plate. Most of the children had already left and the adults chatted to each other, catching up and sharing their opinions on tonight. Aragorn slid himself out of his seat and walked over to his son. The boy's robes were scrunched up in wrinkles against the table. Aragorn snaked his arm under Archir's chest and the other turning him. He lifted the sleeping boy into his arms and on his hip, something he had not gotten to do with his son asleep in over two years. Feeling the familiar motion, the child put his thumb in his mouth to suck on while his other one dangled as he laid his head against the shoulder. Putting a hand behind the boy's head, he walked over to Gandalf and the hobbits.

"One of the maidens will show you to the guestrooms. I'm going to tuck the birthday boy into bed for the night," Archir explained.

"Seems he exhausted himself," Pippin commented lightly and Merry slapped the hobbit at the back of the head, ignoring the indignant yelp. Gandalf smiled knowingly at his student before Aragorn carried his charge down the long hall, enjoying the feeling of carrying his little boy again. Archir didn't budge the whole time, simply sucking his thumb in contentment. Eventually, Aragorn made it to the room and after he nudged Sirius away from the door, he rested Archir on his bed before he unbuttoned the robe and put that in the hamper, sliding off the rest of his garments and swapping them for a night shirt and shorts. He dressed the now 9-year-old boy into them and tucked the unconscious prince into his bed, placing a kiss on the boy's cheek. He smiled at his son and watched in amusement as Archir rolled over on his stomach and kept his thumb planted in his mouth for the night. If Aragorn remembered correctly, Archir had stopped that habit when he turned six. Chuckling again, he left the room after turning the lights off. He did take note of the fact that Sirius whined until he could rest himself in a ball at the foot of the bed. Crazy mutt, Aragorn thought fondly. He retired to his own rooms for the night, unaware of what would take place in the morning...

That morning, Gandalf looked right into the emerald pupils of his student and heir. In those eyes were things unheard of and unspoken. They wreaked of darkness around them, but they held a flicker of light. They were flaming with an intruding bravery and courage. Archir was a strong child, no matter that he was now nine and in one year, ten. Gandalf smiled a little sadly as he inspected the boy. He was powerful and yet helpless. He was a child in many ways, but in others he was an adult. Gandalf suspected, no... he knew, that Archir hadn't fully come to terms with this life. Even after four years, even after that battle against Alator, he had yet to let Harry James Potter become Archir as well.

"Archir, I have a proposal for you," Gandalf began quietly and he knew he had the boy's attention at this, "I have spent the past four years on a mission of my own sent to my from the Valar. Most of which I can not tell you, but I can safely say that I have procured my final task before I must leave Middle Earth. This task, is set to help you." Archir was quiet as he stared at his mentor with wide eyes, "With me is the chance to visit Earth, your world, one last time. One final day in the wizarding world. I have gone before, to make accommodations for a residence for you... and I. I will go with you to help you through this. 24 hours is all you have and 24 hours is all you need."

"Why?" Archir asked softly, his mind whirling with bewilderment.

"You have pushed away your past, in hopes of never remembering. Tell me littlun, has your magic begun to crackle when used now?" Gandalf challenged.

"No! It wouldn't... maybe... yes," Archir said first in disbelief and then ashamed as well as admittance. Gandalf went over to the boy and placed two fingers under his chin, forcing him to look at him. Archir could only stare into Gandalf's eyes. The mysterious orbs displayed something that Archir couldn't identify, but it made him feel safe and loved. Comforted... As the elderly wizard nodded, Archir smiled.

"You'll go with me?" Archir inquired, making sure. When Gandalf responded positive, Archir stood up, having sat down, as Gandalf pointed his staff at the door. With a few choice words, a flame ignited of emerald green and pure pearl white. Gandalf took his charge's hand and went over to the entrance.

"Are you ready for this?" Gandalf asked, looking at him. When the boy nodded, Gandalf let go of the hand and let the boy go ahead of him. Archir took a breath, looking at the glaring flame with determination before he looked at his mentor who smiled encouragingly at him. The smile told him that everything would be alright, he'd get through. He was doing this because of what? To become Archir the Emerald, with Harry in him once more. Only this time, he was doing this to let Harry be Archir. Archir groaned, this was all so confusing to him still. Gandalf assured him that he'd figure it out soon enough.

"24 Hours littlun. No more, no less. That is all we have." He warned before Archir nodded and together, both Mentor and Student took a step through. Archir did not go through the portal as 9-year-old Archir the Emerald, but as a 9-year-old Harry James Potter while Gandalf remained Gandalf. It was not Gandalf who would be trying to merge two people together, after all. For Harry and Archir were the same person, yet Archir didn't want that to be. It was time to face his past one last time, but as Archir. And he only had 24 hours to do so.

**Author's Note: At the beginning, he has these traits because he is not perfect. There are faults in everyone and Archir is NOT a mary-sue. Most of you are probably heart-broken that I did not tell you I was doing a time-jump. Sorry guys, but Archir has to grow up eventually! I'll maybe do a one-shot of something in the last four years perhaps. Who knows. The last chapter reviews made me sad people! Anyways, I wonder how you felt when Gandalf came and the idea he proposed. Now enters one last hurrah before the decision comes up. Archir will have 24 hours in Chapter TWENTYFOUR to see the Wizarding World in the year 2010, sort of a special gift for you guys in the New Year. I'd say this story has a good four chapters left to it before I must draw to an end. Who knows. Perhaps I can make it five. But that's as long as I'll manage it. Maybe an Epilogue or a Sequel, I'm unsure. I'll figure it out by next chapter... I'm hoping. As to why I'm making it that Harry goes back at last. I gave away that hint in the first five chapters of this story. Harry would go back to see them one last time. The reason for why he has to go back would be because even though he HAS given up being Harry, he has had moments where he didn't want to ever be Harry, because he still has those memories. Gandalf is doing this so that Archir can let Harry still be apart of him. Hope you guys enjoyed this one and REVIEW so I know that I'm not wasting my time. I have a Chemistry test to study for, lines to memorize, and I am now practicing tennis. I promise to keep this going, but it will take longer if I'm discouraged. Lol  
**


	24. 24 Hours

**Ring Child**

**by Kiamii**

**Chapter Twenty Three "24 Hours"**

_( When you see my face,_

_Hope it gives you hell,_

_Hope it gives you... hell._

_When you walk my way,_

_Hope it gives you hell,_

_Hope it gives you hell. ) - All American Rejects "Gives you Hell"_

_He heard a voice. It was calling his name... Archir. That was his name, he knew that and he knew that they wanted him to get up. Yet, he didn't want to awake, finding peace in the everlasting darkness. He felt something push him a little. Not to harsh, but still firmly. He blinked blearily and... _

"Papa," Archir said with a yawn, "where are we?"

"Currently residing in a Wizarding Inn called The Leaky Cauldron. I take it you know about this place?" Gandalf inquired and chuckled when Archir immediately nodded. He stood up, a bit unstable, and looked at Gandalf in confusion. The man was very much younger than before. He actually looked to be in his forties all of a sudden, instead of his old age appearance of seventies. A light mouse brown hair matted his once gray hair and his eyes were still their piercing color. Yet... he was taller than his old height. Either that or Archir was short again. The younger wizard looked at his mentor with a questioning look as he sat up from the bed in which he was laying horizontally on. Gandalf gave him a lopsided grin and mused up Archir's hair. The boy protested and then Gandalf told him something that made him run to the mirror in the bathroom. The scar stood out proudly upon his pale forehead with his emerald green eyes. His hair was exactly as it had been at this age in this world. Short, scruffy, and uncontrollable. Archir groaned. He rather liked his long hair. He cursed and went back into the room to find Gandalf sorting through a trunk. He pulled out two black robes and the two dressed in them.

"As I am unable to find where we are, you will be the guide today, littlun." Gandalf said with a mock bow. He seemed more exuberant in the youthful body that he now possessed. Archir giggled and smiled at the elderly man who seemed to take joy in his new found movement.

"Never thought I'd hear you say that Papa," Archir said with a grin. He adjusted his robes and made his way to the door before pausing, "What if someone I don't want recognizes me?"

"It is something you must face." Gandalf told him gently. Archir nodded solemnly before he opened the door and walked down the long hall. Gandalf caught up with him and handed him his staff... er...

"This is the wand you came into Middle Earth with, is it not? The Valar saw fit to hold onto your real staff and mine until we return." Gandalf explained. Archir smiled and they found themselves in the main lobby of the Leaky Cauldron. Tom, the bartender, offered Gandalf a drink and the wizard politely declined with the excuse of his grandson eager to see Diagon Alley. Tom had chuckled and asked Gandalf what he thought of the place. Stumped, Archir helped him out by chirping out loud that his papa had never been there either. Tom then showed Gandalf what to do and left the two. Gandalf chuckled and the two walked down the magical place called Diagon Alley. Archir led Gandalf to Gringotts where he entered. Gandalf looked at the Goblins in amazement while Archir went up to one, recalling everything he could about his old world.

"Key?" The goblin said with a drawling manner as he boredly gazed at the elderly man and ignored Archir until the 9-year-old spoke up with a polite and formal tone that this surprised the goblin at the desk so much he swiftly turned to gaze at the small boy in front of him who bore black robes and strikingly familiar black locks with emerald eyes. Everyone knew of Harry James Potter, and this young boy drew up memory of an 11-year-old boy with that old oaf Hagrid in their bank. To see a boy even younger look so much like the now Man-Who-Defeated-The-Dark-Lord was rare and the goblin swiftly turned his eyes to the boy's forehead, unfortunately unable to see it because of the bangs. The child was smiling at him in an amused, yet shy manner.

"Currently unavailable. I would like to make a transaction from a certain person's vault that belongs to me. I can do so through blood claim if you must. I prefer the name be private." Archir said. The goblin narrowed his eyes in suspicion as to who this person's vault was before leading him to a silvery and frosted empty basin where Archir pricked his finger and let the blood drop into it. The goblin tapped the basin on the rims and poured a container of water into it. The name Harry James Potter appeared on the liquid surface. The Goblin stared at him with stunned amazement, though his suspicions were now confirmed. How could this boy be related to the Potter family? His question was soon answered as this child turned to him again with a wink, further amazing the goblin.

"Allow me to make the introduction. I am Archir the Emerald though here the name is preferred to be Harry Potter." Archir said with a cheeky grin. The Goblin just continued gazing at him before he snapped out of it and withdrew a small credit card with a pouch. He explained that Harry (Archir tried to call himself that for he was Harry here) about the basics in the technology. The credit card worked like muggle money only it withdrew straight from the account and there was no side effects to it. The pouch could withdraw as much money from his account as he needed, just by saying the requested amount from his bag. Ar- Harry nodded in thanks and stood up. Gandalf was led back to the Leaky Cauldron and Harry's heart nearly stopped at who he saw in there.

Draco Malfoy. Of all the people who could have first spotted, it was his childhood enemy. He appeared to be writing something on parchment, looking bored. Harry stared, transfixed. The blond man had some scars along the neck and he looked sad about something. Yet, he seemed nearly content in his spot and Tom placed a cup of something down in front of Draco who murmured unknown words. Archir did not realize Gandalf had pushed him a little until he found himself walking towards the man. He froze and to his luck, Draco looked up and met his emerald eyes. The pureblood's eyes widened as he stared, open-mouthed, at the little boy in front of him. The former opponents gazed into the eyes of the other before Draco immediately stood up and walked straight to Archir who stood still. Draco knelt down, shaking, to be at the boy's height and took confidence in the fact that Archir did not flinch or stare at him like he had three heads. He did not look like a frightened child wondering who in the bloody hell this man was, but more along the lines of hesitant.

"Potter?" Draco asked hesitantly, his mouth opening to form the words slowly. They were unsure and Archir realized Draco was trusting his instinct. No one else would have believed it right away. Slowly, as though afraid this was some soon to turn nightmare, Harry nodded. Given that this was a former and petty enemy, Archir wanted to make sure he did not get on the man's bad side. Draco's eyes widened even more so and he sat down on the floor. Tom was watching the scene in some sort of similarity of surprise as well as the other occupants of the room. No one had heard Draco's words, but they all began to see something familiar about Archir, they just didn't know what. No one could really remember what Archir looked like all of a sudden when Gandalf had put his hand on Archir's shoulder.

"I think we should take this somewhere else?" Archir asked curiously and Draco dumbly nodded before he stood up and asked Tom to lend them a room. Tom hurriedly gave him the key to a meeting room and Draco led them there. Archir entered and took note of the table with six chairs and cabinets along the walls with counters underneath. Once it was closed, Archir put up silencing wards and then Draco bombarded him with question after question while Gandalf lifted Archir up onto the counter in the room. It was then that Draco noticed Gandalf.

"He's my guardian here and my mentor, Gandalf the White. You need to understand Malfoy... er... Draco. I may be Harry Potter, but I'm a little boy in another world and I'm here for only twenty-four hours. I'm nine right now. Though, why aren't you insulting me makes me curious." Archir said all this as best as he could. He wasn't having all that much trouble adjusting to being back in the Wizarding world. Maybe it was because he still remembered vaguely being here before. Gandalf had dimmed his memories before leaving four years ago, and Archir had tried to forget about being Harry. He leaned against the wall as he watched Draco's gaping look turn into a shocked and then calm expression. His face finally landed on amused as he saw Archir's small nature.

"Though you still look like yourself," Draco commented, reaching out and ruffling Harry's hair, taking in the fact that his hair got messier with amusement. When Harry stared at him, he shrugged and said, "I got over my hatred for you when you mysteriously d-died." Draco stuttered over the last word, considering when everyone in the wizarding world had discovered their boy-who-lived to be the boy-who-died... It was a devastating blow considering he had just defeated Voldemort. They had found the body asleep in Gryffindor tower and the Golden Trio remainders were in shock. They considered thinking Kreacher poisoned the boy, but the house-elf was much too loyal and the house elf wailed when he discovered his master dead.

"Really now that's astoni- wait what? I mysteriously DIED not Disappeared?" Harry asked. Draco nodded, taken aback when Harry looked at him with a grimace. His former enemy's childish face made Draco stare even more. Harry just looked all the more innocent and youthful. He was still small for a nine-year-old and the scrawny nature stayed with him. His emerald eyes were brighter than they once were and were deeper, as if they had the ability to see through you. His black hair whipped around his head like a jungle, always preferring to be messy and out of place.

"When you went to bed that night you defeated Riddle, you never woke up and stopped breathing, to everyone's horror." Draco explained and Harry simply looked exasperated, turning to Gandalf.

"That's just... just... wrong!" Harry said in disgust. Draco smirked at the expression on the boy's face before frowning in confusion. WHY was Harry Potter a kid when he was supposed to be in his thirties?

"So what are you doing here and... as a kid?"

"I was taken to another world that night, and face another dark lord might I add. I didn't kill him though." Harry said as he swung his legs around, "I have a daddy and mama there with Gandalf who is my Papa." Archir left out his Ada, considering he didn't want to go into a full explanation about what an Ada was, why he had two fathers, and everything else including that stupid Prince title he had.

"Daddy and Mama?"

"I was four physically when I started calling them that. I can get away with it still. I'm not all that inclined to stop calling them." Harry said with a shrug. Draco snorted and studied Harry with interest.

"So... what now?" Draco asked all of a sudden.

"What do you mean?"

"You're here and for twenty-four hours. Don't you want to see everybody?" Draco asked. Harry looked thoughtful.

"Actually, I do, but I don't want them to know I'm Harry right now." Harry admitted. Draco nodded in understanding and pulled out his wand. Harry watched as he tapped Harry on the head and Harry knew he was suddenly disguised. He felt different than before and he could see the change. Brown bangs could be seen out of his eyes and Archir guessed his eyes were blue. His emerald eyes stuck out anywhere, so Draco was smart to change his eyes the most. Draco conjured a mirror and Harry stared at the face he now bore. He seemed even younger and childish than before and he didn't think that possible.

"I take it the changes made me look younger?" Archir asked with a raised eyebrow as he noticed Draco staring at him with a surprised expression.

"That and..." Draco said in a daze, "You're just so small..."

"No, I'm Voldemort with an eating disorder," Archir said sarcastically earning him a chuckle from Gandalf and a glare from Draco who messed with his hair.

"Continuing... I think you should take on the name James Xander temporarily. I have a current friend in America with that last name and he has a son. I could simply say I was taking care of him for the day, since you don't wan to tell them who you are at the moment. I've been accepted as a Potions teacher and Head of Slytherin at Hogwarts last year so I have a reason to be at the school." Draco said proudly. Archir looked at him in surprise.

"Wow. Congratulations!" Archir said and Draco beamed that it took Archir a moment or two before he shook his head. Draco had changed so much from the pompous bratty kid in their Hogwarts years. Draco saw his look and scowled before he searched through his bag again and withdrew a cellphone, making Archir blink in confusion. He had never really seen a phone before, but he knew it was once a muggle product. He was about to open his mouth to ask when Draco beat him to it.

"It's a phone. Muggle, but I managed it to work in magical communities. I have to call a friend of mine real quick. Shh." Draco said before his tone changed from teasing to professional as he talked in a business voice for a few minutes before hanging up. Draco ignored Archir's curious look and swiftly lifted Draco up onto his hip. Archir, in instinct and surprise, clutched Draco's shirt with his hands. He eyed the blond man for a moment or two.

"How'd you get so paternal all of a sudden?" Archir inquired with a smirk. Draco huffed before smirking back and adjusting Archir on his hip to steady him as they headed for the door.

"I helped your friends raise Teddy and also Pansy gave birth to a little boy a few years back. I haven't had much communication with them over the years I've been going away, so I can easily play you as my previous roommate's son who recently died, since he really did." Draco said triumphantly. Archir scowled, but did not move. He was still a little taken aback at being carried, but he let it go. He didn't really mind all that much, considering he couldn't really call this place his home anymore. That title now belonged to Middle Earth. Besides, it was only twenty-four hours. Draco looked at Archir again before turning to Gandalf.

"He works like Dumbledore," Archir whispered to Draco who snorted and then pulled out from his bag, a box of candy from muggle and magic. Gandalf eyed it before he tried one.

"You two are welcome to go without me, as I have some... errands I need to do," Gandalf said as he looked at the candy again and ate another. Archir looked at him in amusement, finding Gandalf's new sweet tooth to be hilarious. The old man waved them goodbye before Draco carried a silently laughing Harry on his hip, disguised as his 9-year-old ward for now. People stared at Draco, but the blond ignored them all as he carried Archir through the area and to the floo. He threw in the powder and stepped in, clearly calling out Hogwarts. Archir saw passing connections pass before his eyes and before he knew it, he was coughing violently as Draco exited the floo gracefully with Archir on his hip.

"Should have warned you to hide your face in my shoulder. It's usually worse for kids," Draco murmured, "sorry." Archir simply huffed between coughs and allowed Draco to pat his back firmly. He then turned to Minerva who was watching them in apprehension. Archir felt slightly better and wriggled to get Draco to put him down. He wasn't a toddler anymore. Archir was put down and he paused for a minute, recalling how his daddy had not picked him up for awhile. He rather did miss being carried sometimes by Aragorn. Archir shook his head of those thoughts and turned to Minerva with a suddenly shy look. She was looking at him curiously now and turned to Draco questioningly.

"Good morning Minerva," Draco greeted.

"Evening Draco. May I ask who this lad is?" Minerva asked with a quirked eyebrow.

"I'm just taking care of him for the day for his father. This is James Xander." Draco introduced, "James, this is my co-worker Minerva McGonagall."

"Hello ma`am." Archir said politely and was rewarded with a smile in return. Minerva stood up and looked at Draco with a curious look.

"I take it that you are here to set up your office as usual, Draco?" Minerva inquired and Draco nodded, "Well then, I will tell you now that we have a staff meeting in a few hours. Hermione and Ronald will be there as well." Archir nearly stumbled upon hearing this. Draco said nothing as he took Archir's hand and tugged him along to Draco's office. Upon shutting the door, he turned to a confused Archir.

"The two work here. Ron as Quidditch Instructor and Hermione as Charms professor. Almost all of our old professors except Minerva retired. It's the year 2010 after all. You're turning 30 in two months." Draco explained.

"So what happened to my other friends?"

"Luna took up being the Divination teacher and she is surprisingly accurate and solemn. Neville is Herbology teacher and he's a pro at it. Ginny is the defense teacher and she managed to break the curse last year. Pansy actually is adept in History and Binns finally moved on so she's actually the History of Magic Professor now and she's doing good." Draco continued with a sheepish grin.

"You've changed Draco."

"Yeah... I didn't until you died. It came as a surprise for me."

The two remained quiet for awhile before Draco stood up and announced that they needed to go to the meeting. When Archir asked him if he was allowed to go, Draco nodded with a sly look. The two left the office and as they walked to the meeting room, they encountered Peeves but the most unusual thing happened right then and there. Instead of some insult towards the two, Peeves stopped and glanced at Archir with a surprised look. He bowed low to the little boy before moving away, to their shock. They batted away the incident and walked to the room. Just as Draco was about to open his mouth to say the password to the meeting room, the portrait took a look at Archir before opening.

"Something is seriously wrong with you..." Draco said as they entered. Archir shrugged at him and he stopped in his place and used the shy kid card to hide behind Draco. Sitting at the table were everyone of his friends. Neville, Luna, Hermione, Ron, and Ginny were sitting there with a reluctant face on their expressions.

"None of them have ever moved on since your death. You sure you don't want to reveal yourself?" Draco murmured. Archir hesitated.

"After the meeting..." Archir murmured and Draco nodded, pleased to find something to kick his colleagues out of their stupor. He lifted Archir up into a chair and sat down himself. The staff stared at the little boy with a thoughtful look on their faces before Minerva cleared her throat.

"As you know, it is now the anniversary of Potter's death. May 3, 1998 he died and it is now May 3, 2010." Minerva said with a soft voice. Archir looked surprised at this revelation. The meeting continued in a matter of simple idle chat of their summer holidays and Draco stood up to tell of his travel to America. He hesitated upon talking of his friend Richard Xander and his real son James. He wanted so badly to tell them that the boy next to him was not James, but Harry. He ended with no comments on the boy next to him and he waited quietly as people filed out until Minerva and the Gryffindor four with Luna were left, staring at Draco curiously.

"I... James isn't... err..." Draco stammered. Gone was the pureblood prince when Voldemort died and a different boy had replaced Malfoy to become Draco. Archir shifted in his seat and decided it was now or never.

"My name isn't James Xander," Archir started and he nearly blanched as their eyes swiveled to meet his in surprise. He faltered and bit his lip as Draco pulled out his wand to undo the charms, but Archir paused. Archir felt that he needed to express it, somehow and someway, who he was now but had been as well. He...

"I'm..." Archir began, struggling to find a way to tell the blinking eyes that he was Harry. He was Harry Potter but... no... He was Archir. Archir pulled out the wand in his robe and drew a circle around him. Before their eyes, memories flashed by the occupants' eyes. Images of a toddler boy who looked just like... Harry!

_"Harry? Such an odd name. We'll have to change that on another time, for now. I am Gandalf the Grey. I take it that you yourself are a one of a kind Istari child. One of which never existed before... until you came along of course." _And elderly wizard told Harry in front of him.

_"Ah Frodo my dear boy! I would like you to meat a very unique child that I stumbled across, Archir the Emerald, a wizard child." _The same wizard told a small being who wasn't necessarily a child, but he was as short as one.

_"Will I ever see my friends again?" _Harry whispered. The man embraced the boy.

_"I am afraid not. You will be able to communicate with them one day but, that is many summers from now my dear lad." _The wizard faded from view and a man who looked eerily like Sirius Black but different came into view.

_"They wanted to both adopt you, for you to be the heir of both Mirkwood and Rivendell. The grandson of Elrond and Thranduil as well as the son of Aragorn and Legolas." _A woman said while Harry was in the arms of the Sirius-look-alike. The boy seemed a little bit older and wiser...

Twin males appeared into view and their mischievous grins made them all feel as if the Weasley Twins were there again. George and Fred...

_"And you, my dear Archir -" _One of them began, causing the boy's head to turn.

_"May dub us your Uncles." _The other said and the two swept themselves into a bow, grinning at the child who was now giggling softly.

_"Introducing Uncle Elladan," _Elrohir continued, introducing himself as his brother.

_"and Uncle Elrohir." _Elladan finished, grinning at their trick. Archir looked at them curious for a second before he smiled in a fond manner, as though in memory.

_"Uncle Elladan," _Archir said, pointing at Elladan to the twins' shock,_ "and Uncle Elrohir," _he said, pointing to the other. Elrond burst out laughing, though an unkingly thing to do, he found the whole thing quite hilarious. For few could tell the twins apart. Arwen laughed as well, though she strained it. Elladan plucked the little boy out of his father's arms and threw him slightly in the air, catching him and sitting down with Elrohir, putting the child between them.

_"I met a pair of twins who did the same thing before," _Archir explained, wriggling as they would not let him up. Suddenly everything faded until the boy was standing in front of a crowd. He was bearing a crown upon his head of purity and he reminded them of a unicorn. Pure and innocent. The words _"Behold the Prince of Arda!"_ were chanted at him and Archir blinked.

_"With me is the chance to visit Earth, your world, one last time. One final day in the wizarding world. I have gone before, to make accommodations for a residence for you... and I. I will go with you to help you through this. 24 hours is all you have and 24 hours is all you need." _The elderly man was telling Archir.

The scenes had shifted to so many others talking to that same boy. Only once had they heard Harry's name and then it was replaced by the name Archir.

"I'm Archir the Emerald of another world called Middle Earth, also known as, Arda. Here, though, I was once known as the Boy-Who-Lived or... Harry James Potter." Archir said with a small voice. Silence reigned. They were stunned. This child couldn't be him... Yet when Draco released the glamour, they were taken aback to see the face of a 9-year-old version of Harry. Their Harry. The scar on the forehead added to this and they couldn't say anything. Couldn't breathe. How was this possible? It just... It was impossible. Yet, when has anything Harry ever did impossible? Ginny was the first one to step near the boy and she knelt down in front of the nervous child. Her hand shakingly reached up to touch the boy's cheek. Her hand lightly brushed against Harry's rosy face and she inhaled sharply. This was Harry, she could tell. Without knowing what she was doing, she pulled the boy into her arms and embraced him. Archir blinked before Harry wrapped his arms around her neck.

"Hey Ginny." Harry said softly, which seemed to snap them all out of it. Ginny began to tear up silently and she buried her head into Harry's shoulder, shaking. Hermione and Ron walked over slowly and knelt down next to them. Ginny finally released him moments later and Hermione blinked at him before she smiled and pulled Harry into a tight hug as well.

"Mione... can't... breathe." Harry gasped out and this brought light watery chuckles out from the others. Ron couldn't help but hug the boy as well which was followed by Neville and Minerva before even Luna hugged him, to Harry's surprise. When the emotional tears were gone, Harry found himself sitting in Hermione's lap, her arms around him. They were quiet for a moment before Minerva began.

"Harry... who were those people in those memories?" She asked quietly.

"My family in the other world." Archir said with a soft smile, "They took care of me for the past six years that I was with them all..." He was about to continue when Gandalf appeared and he was blinking in confusion. He looked around before he found Archir and he raised an eyebrow before smiling.

"I see you've found your friends littlun." Gandalf said as he sat next to Draco.

"And you are?" Hermione asked.

"Gandalf the Gray and mentor to Archir the Emerald, the boy in your arms."

"Also known as my Papa." Harry added helpfully.

"Indeed... I am guessing I was taken here to you because I must tell you only ten hours remain." Gandalf said regretfully. Archir nodded with a sad look upon his face.

"Ten hours? Wait... One final day in the wizarding world. You have ten hours left here before you return to your other world for good?" Hermione asked. Archir's face told her the answer and she tightened her hold on him.

"I... I don't want you to leave... but I think it was better that you only stayed this long..." Neville said.

"He's right. I think we all can live better knowing you're safe and happy." Luna said with a dreamy smile on her face. Archir smiled in return, wishing he could stay too. But he had a family back home. They were quiet for a few moments before deciding to spend Archir's last ten hours simply doing things they hadn't done in awhile. Ron played chess with Archir and flew on brooms with him, Hermione showed Archir her extensive library and even read to him a book on mystic creatures with Luna helping along. Ginny showed him her classroom and what she taught, showing the portrait of an animated Harry on the wall that encouraged her class to his amusement. Neville and him harvested a few of his plants while Draco and him actually brewed a potion or two. Minerva and him chatted to the portrait of Dumbledore and Archir felt that he was whole again. Just simply doing non-important things were now the most important. Unfortunately as midnight neared, Gandalf told them all it was time to go.

"I had a lot of fun today you guys. I won't forget any of it and I hope you can move on with knowing I'm not really gone." Archir said with a smile before he closed his eyes as he felt a spark of his magic flare with energy and he pulled out his wand. He began to craft a wooden figurine of a phoenix and handed it to Minerva. It was glaringly white with a spark of power to it. He smiled one last time before turning to Gandalf. As he knew his time was up, he whispered to himself...

"I'm Archir the Emerald... But now I know I can be Harry Potter too." With that, Archir knew no more.

**Author's Note: So... I'm sure plenty of you cursed my name in whatever language you speak. Hahaha... I'm honestly very sorry for taking this long. This chapter has to be PERFECT considering it's very special to Archir in the story and my muse... died... on me lately. So I was working from scratch through out this and it didn't help that I had exams. I've been working on a new Alex Rider story, Muddle Tears, and a bit of my Outsiders story, Staying Golden, ever since my muse croaked. It's helped me develop my characters so I gave this another shot. Told you I never abandon a story. Now if I don't update for more than a month like Little Wizard... er... Just don't kill me. That HPXTwilight story is not one of my favorite ones. I don't like Twilight as much, I only got pestured by a friend to write it. It's only been thirteen years since Harry died and I felt that Draco is friends with them all. This was rather quick at the end because I was just being me and wanted the end done. Hope you liked it. **

**Edited!: I'm feeling like a total idiot when NO ONE except for one person finally told me I left my own outline up at the top. TERRIBLY sorry about that you guys. I feel stupid. It ruined my awesome chapter. Damn.  
**


	25. Time Starts Now

**Ring Child**

**by Kiamii**

**Note: I say screw it. If you saw the words Chapter Twenty Three "24 Hours" then ignore it. Pretend it said Twenty Four. I was tired like crazy when I wrote that chapter.**

**Chapter Twenty FIVE "Time starts now"**

Archir toppled to the ground with a loud _"Oomph"_ from himself. He landed squarely on the ground flat on his stomach and he reacted with his hands sprawled out in front of him, his legs the last to land. He heard a chuckle and one emerald eye cracked upon to spy his father, Aragorn, smiling at his fall. Archir grumbled something and allowed Aragorn to help him up. He noticed he was back to his normal height and his hair was again to the back of his neck. His father was grinning at him as Gandalf landed gracefully next to Archir. The man ruffled the little boy's hair with a chuckle. Archir shook himself off of any dust that had found its way on his person. Aragorn smiled at his son and knelt down to be at his height a little more.

"Have a nice _trip_?" Aragorn asked with a tease to the last word. Archir huffed, but smiled at his daddy and nodded. Aragorn grinned before it faded and he sighed, looking at Archir with a hesitant look before he cleared his throat and put his hands on his son's shoulders. Archir looked at his father in surprise at the sudden antic.

"Good to know. I regret to tell you that the Valar request to speak to you in public... Everyone is in the entrance hall..." Aragorn said with a reluctant tone as he kissed the boy on the top of the head and stood up. Archir looked at him curiously before slipping his hand into Aragorn's and following Gandalf as they headed to the entrance hall. Aragorn allowed his son to pull him along. Archir blinked as he saw Frodo with Archir's grandfather Elrond, Galadriel, and a rather odd man stood beside them. Near them were two other elves Archir had only met in a brief passing to Rivendell and Mirkwood. Gil-galad and Cirdan were conversing quietly and Archir was unable to hear them. Arwen and Legolas were nowhere to be seen.

"Frodo," Archir greeted before looking around in puzzlement, "where is Sam? Pippin? Merry?"

"They are waiting to leave again out front." Frodo said with a frown. His eyes widened only slightly as he realized Archir did not know what was taking place. He sent Aragorn an inquiring look... but Aragorn refused to meet the gaze. He instead knelt down again with his arms around the 9-year-old boy's shoulders.

"Why are you alone?" Archir asked in wonder. He did not see the looks of the others as they studied the 9-year-old with apprehension.

"Archir..." The unknown man said and this gained Archir's attention, "as you know... The ring has been destroyed four years to this day." Archir blinked in shock. Had it really been four years since his grandest journey? Since his adoption? Since coming to this world? Archir shook his head before returning to face this man. He looked oddly familiar, yet a stranger.

"Yes..." Archir said warily, "With it the loss of power Saruman had over Mordor. May I inquire as to your identity?" Aragorn sighed as he chose to instead pick his son up who took no protest, too fixed on what was going on.

"Ah. You see, Archir the Emerald son of Aragorn and Legolas, I am what one could say a messenger. I am here on the primary role of representing Manwë and the others of the Vala. My companion has wronged you and I am here in his place to be his opposite."

"Pallando then." Archir said as he recalled a long ago lesson in wizards from Gandalf. His papa bit his lip in a weary manner of his own, exhausted from the journey the two had. Or he could be suffering from the sugar, Archir mused with amusement before returning to the topic at hand.

"Fear not Archir the Emerald, I have good intentions towards thee." The light blue wizard said with a thin smile before standing up straighter, "and I therefore must talk to you in private." Archir nodded slightly and Aragorn squeezed the little boy in his arms tightly and let him down. Pallando extended his hand which the young wizard took. As they left the room, they left behind puzzled stares.

"Why must he tell him in private?" Elrond inquired with a wary frown. Gandalf simply looked toward the sky as he heard muffled voices in the room the other two wizards resided in. The seconds ticked by in time. Time. That was all that was left now. That and choice. Choice of what? Gandalf frowned to himself as he peered at the sky through the royally-crafted window. Amongst the children obliviously playing around as they waited for the young boy to join them. For that was exactly what Archir was now. A young boy. But was he something else? Gandalf shook his head. He'd soon find out if his student was not just a child now. His childhood was still there and always would be, but was his student stronger this time around? He'd just have to wait...

"There is something else that he must face..." Gandalf said softly. Heads turned to view the wizened old wizard with surprise. He knew something they didn't clearly. Aragorn turned to his old friend with a wary face.

"And that is?" Aragorn asked with a surprised look.

"The choice."

"The choice of what?" Frodo asked with a shocked tone lacing his voice. Aragorn looked suspicious and nearly anxious of what this choice was. Gandalf dared not tell him the full details. He knew Archir would have to say. The sound of his student's small voice denying pierced Gandalf's sharp ears and he took a breath deeply. The room was so tense it could be stabbed with a fork, he mused dryly.

"The choice given among some elves. The choice to be immortal in Valinor... or to grow mortal in Arda." Gandalf said heavily right as they heard a yell from the other room. Not of being under attack but of the truth. The voice struck into the core of the occupants of the entrance hall. It was deadly quiet and none dared make a noise. No one moved when Pallando entered the room and nodded quietly to Gandalf.

"He knows of his choice now. I have given him until the day we part to decide. He is distressed. I will be occupying my time amongst the room given to me. Will you not come with Gandalf?"

"I shall old friend," Gandalf said with a bow of his head and the two solemnly departed. Aragorn's shoulders shook before he slowly entered the room where his son resided. He rushed to Archir who was on his knees and hands, tears leaking from his face. He gathered the little boy into his arms while Archir said nothing, simply seeking the comfort from him. Archir buried his head into Aragorn's chest, shaking. Aragorn simply wrapped his arms around him and rubbed circles into his back. The two were quiet as Archir wept. It seemed to last an eternity of how long the two were there. Simply quiet with the exceptions of the heart-stricken sobs.

"I..." Archir said quietly after his tears ended with sniffs and hiccups, "I can't leave... but I can't stay either..."

"I know son," Aragorn told him softly, "but you must choose one. Both options have their advantages and disadvantages."

"I can't see you if I go, but I can't see Papa if I stay." Archir said with tear-stained cheeks adorning his small and downtrodden face. Aragorn rested his hand against the child's head, humming softly. For Archir, that was the upmost terrible choice to be given. He loved Aragorn and Gandalf both. His first father and his mentor. To be forced to only see one for the rest of his life, was devastating. The choice to become immortal or mortal.

"There was something else," Archir said reluctantly, "Pallando also told me the consequence of staying. If I turn mortal and stay in Arda, I'd continue growing up like any other man, but... I'd be an adain. I wouldn't be a wizard until I turned physically 17 again. I-If I was immortal in Valinor, I'd grow up similar to how an elf does. I'd be back to three only for two decades until I age to physically six." Archir hiccupped and he rubbed his eyes in exhaustion. Aragorn frowned, covering his shock rather well at the result, and kissed Archir lightly on his forehead. It seemed he had forgotten long ago in the journey they made that Archir had once told him he was mentally 17. Considering the years, he was now inwardly 22. Had 5 years really passed since he met his son?

"My dear son, the choice you make will be your own and none shall influence you as much as yourself shall. You have two days to decide child. Come, let's put you to bed. Do you want me to carry you or would you be able to walk?" Aragorn asked with a gentle voice. Archir looked at his father for a minute or two before wrapping his arms around his neck, signaling he preferred the first choice. Aragorn smiled and stood up, moving Archir onto his hip. Archir closed his eyes and leaned against Aragorn's shoulder, hearing footsteps approaching. Aragorn turned to find Elrond walking towards him.

"I take it he was devastated." Elrond sighed.

"As much as only Pallando could guess. None of us had known of his second telling until Gandalf released the information." Aragorn quipped. Elrond nodded and the two walked down the long halls and up towards the young Prince's room. Elrond opened the door for Aragorn who carried Archir inside and sat him on the bed. Seeing his son dozed off, he began unsnapping the clothes with Elrond's assistance and the two were soon tucking the child into the large bed. Aragorn looked around and he spotted the old bear that was his as a child. He put the bear in Archir's arms who sleepily clutched to it as he came to for a moment. Nilla was still it's soft cream color only the fur seemed worn down now, tattered. Archir's free hand clutched the blankets as his eyelids fluttered until he was asleep...

The next day saw Archir awakening alone in his room. Immediately he could recall last night's events and he frowned before he crawled out of bed and slipped into his emerald robes this time. It had been years since he wore the original robes. They had resized themselves to fit him and he looked at his reflection in surprise. He shook his head before he gave Sirius a pat on the head as he left the room silently. He crept his way out of the home and climbed up a tree near the house. The same tree he had been kidnapped nearby, he mused as he swung himself up on a branch. He marveled in the flexibility he had in the robes. His wizardry robes... Archir clenched his fist.

How much could he handle before it all went downhill? He thought he was finally getting his chance but years later he had to leave one of them... He loved his papa dearly and as well his father... He was a wizard, now and forever. So could he handle being a powerless little boy of nine for real? At least as a child of three to now, he had his magic to protect him in times of need. When he got injured, his magic healed him faster than ever. He -

"Such a down face you have little one, that I would think you lost your possessions!" A voice called that caused Archir to turn in shock only to slip amongst the branch he sat upon. He was too slow to catch himself and he eeped as he slipped off the branch. He squeezed his eyes shut before he suddenly found himself in the arms of the person who spoke moments ago... Archir, unable to take in his whirlwind of emotions easily at this moment, buried his face in the chest and shook with sobs. Judging by the hums of the person, Archir discovered the familiar rhythm to belong to Haldir, his previous caretaker years ago on the shores of Lorien.

"Shh now child," Haldir said, "you never cried so easily as to now."

"H-Haldir!" Archir hiccupped as he rubbed his teary eyes. Haldir frowned at the emotional boy and sat against the tree with the tiny lad in his lap. He cuddled him and Archir slowly calmed down and simply leaned against his chest in contentment. The gentle breeze from the caressing wind blew at them with an impassive about it. Archir felt his hair softly move and he closed his eyes, feeling the wind cool his moist cheeks.

"I don't know what you should do child," Haldir said as Archir explained his situation, "I leave for Valinor soon as well, but not at the same time."

"I want to stay here and grow up with my daddy and ada, but ada will head for the Undying Lands too in a few years. Mama and daddy are mortal now so they can't go..." Archir sighed, "I want to be with Papa. He was the first person I met here and my mentor. I also need my magic. I felt so dead-like when I was bounded without it. I feel so helpless. I can't suffer through that again..."

"I understand child. You will have to face the consequences of either option. Continue to think on it. It'll work out, I promise. Now let's get you some food in that shrunken stomach of yours." Haldir said as he stood up with Archir in his arms. Archir nodded quietly and allowed himself to be put on the ground and his hand grabbed as they walked back to the hall. Archir sat at the table silently and he was like this for the rest of the day and next. He was nowhere to be seen on the final day. Sirius was lounging upon the bed of the prince and his friends were clueless as to where he went. Meanwhile Frodo was saying goodbye to his friends at the port. Pallando stood next to Gandalf this time, waiting for a moment before about to turn back to the port, ready to leave the boy behind for his decision. Aragorn and the others were by the left behind hobbits with a wonderment at where the prince of Arda was.

"Wait!" A voice echoed into the area and they looked around only to see Archir running from behind a tree. He was panting only mildly and he wore his emerald green robes once more. The sparked a nature of powerful importance and he bore the crown upon his head this time. His hair was pulled back in the emerald clasp given to him by a little girl in Minas Tirith. He had nothing else besides his staff which shone in the sun with a gleaming look. He calmed himself for breath, simply looking at the others with determined eyes. They were sparked with tears slowly, stinging his eyes as they streamed down his heated cheeks softly like a river. They were powerful, yet elegant tears.

"Have you made your decision Archir the Emerald, son of Legolas and Aragorn?" Pallando asked with a wise tone. Archir nodded, his eyes facing towards the mysterious glinting eyes of the blue wizard. The light blue wizard that is. Archir was reminded of the dark blue ones he faced years ago. When he had discovered he was Archir. When he felt his heart driving for home in Arda. But now... What was his heart telling him this time? To make his decision that would forever conflict with his life and emotions. He had to make this decision... If not for himself, then for the suffering to come from the other side he did not choose. He chose this with the option of one day seeing them. Maybe.

"I have made my decision..." Archir spoke with small pauses, straightening himself. He looked much like the young prince he was modeled as. No longer molded to be someone he wasn't. He _was_ the prince now. He no longer was controlled or forced. He chose willingly and this pressed him forward. He cleared his throat and looked at Aragorn and Arwen to Gandalf and Frodo. He opened his mouth to speak the words that would always be remembered.

"I have thought long and difficult about my decision, but this matter no longer for I have found my answer. Though it will be hard, I choose..."

**Author's Note: Believe it or not, this is all actually how I was feeling. I'm STILL trying to decided if he should go to Valinor or Arda. I have possible scenes played out with both, and both are so hard to choose from. So I need your help. Leave your thoughts and reasons for it in a review so that Archir can choose. I will also set up a poll. Either way I can only give two more chapters or possibly only one in this story. There IS a sequal on its way IF you guys can convince me you really do want it. For some of those who wonder why I gave him the option of going back to three as an immortal; He has a physical appearance of that age per 2 decades, every 20 years. So he will age very slowly and because he is mentally only 22, he'd be physically two but they gave him the advantage of being three again in body. It's my logic, get over it. Heh. He wouldn't have his childish emotions as much anymore if he does go back, and he'd be twice as powerful as he was before. I bet you all hate me for that lovely cliff hanger! I know this was a tad bit shorter than other chapters. I hadn't had a lot of reviews on my long chapters so I feel short ones have just as much impact on them. So happy reading! Oh and no quick updating because I have two weeks left until my SWEET SIXTEEN so I'll be off celebrating my birthday and getting my driving license.  
**


	26. At Peace

**Ring Child**

**By Kiamii**

**Note: This Chapter is the last one of the story Ring child. This has been finalized and I have tried my best to minimize the mistakes. I hope you enjoy this. **

**Chapter Twenty Six "At Peace"**

Peaceful silence…

The number of how many people in the world who could accomplish this ordeal was hard to finalize and count for. Only few could ever say they were truly happy with everything, truly at peace. Very few could… For some, they find happiness in the littlest things. Best of times come in those who choose to see the light of it all. Worst of times come from seeking what happens, trying to fill that burning curiosity that is the human mind. Once in awhile, the decision to choose will come up in your life. A time where both sides will destroy you, or help you. Every person in the world must go through the painstaking option of choice. Of deciding. Of having to take your own life and thrusting it forward into the one moment that will forever affect you. No returning back. Like growing up… Like graduating… Like… Living.

Looking back on it all, perhaps the decision could have been different. Perhaps his choice would have been something unexpected… But this time, chance took over and he made his decision. Nine years went by in the flow of life and his decision was still in the air, crisp with remembrance. No one forgot that day at the dock, where that one boy had the world on his shoulders once. Where he had faced events in his nine years that destroyed people, but he remained focused and according. Yes… Archir the Emerald was a strong child… A strong wizard.

Currently the start begins again in Arda. More specifically, Gondor of Middle Earth. The town was ripe with age and stung with wisdom. With the experience and memory of war. Children were now everywhere, as opposed to when war had struck the core of age. Women were busy with their sewing and harvesting while men went about conversing and working. They guarded the city rather well and elves and dwarves were nowhere to be seen. Neither were the creatures that were sighted years ago… during the age of war. In fact, the age of men seemed to have taken place now. Dwarves regularly hid within the mines now while the Elves chose to go to the Undying Lands.

The trees in the city were very old now and still as stubbornly strong as they were growing. One boy could be seen leaning against a tree talking with a friend of his. The two boys were familiar. The taller boy of the two was built with muscle and his brown hair curled to the back of his neck, tied with a green ribbon. His wide brown eyes sparked at the other boy as he grinned good-naturedly with his handsome and sharp features. The shorter boy was blond with blue eyes as he rolled his eyes at his friend. He too had muscles on his lined body. The first boy, at the age of nineteen, was rather serious and more taken in with work. His friend was the same, only mixed with a need to have fun still. The two didn't used to always be this way, but they had changed in the nine years since then…

"Shade…" The shorter boy began, "Have you seen your sister Isabell lately?"

"I have Alex. Why would you think I haven't?" Shade inquired of the younger boy. Alex was two years his junior. Alex blushed.

"Well… You see…" Alex stammered.

"You like my sister, don't you?" Shade accused teasingly. Alex turned bright red as Shade hollered in laughter. The two were oblivious to the small footsteps of a small girl until with a yelp, she tackled Alex to the ground. Alex shouted before he fell. He sat up to see a young girl of eight-years-old who had glaringly bright hazel eyes staring straight into his blue ones.

"Well hello there to you too Princess Evain," Shade said with an arched eyebrow as he lifted the girl off his friend. Evain was a cross between her two parents, favoring her father in facial and her mother in body. She was graceful to a limited point, and foolishly brave. She preferred to be out and about. The guards saw the little girl as a reminder of something.

"Hello Shade! Alex." Evain said with a smile before frowning in annoyance, "and why do you always call me that! It's not Evain! I like Amerald a lot more." The word so irritatingly similar to Emerald brought about a cringe from both teen boys. Amerald, or Evain, frowned in annoyance.

"You know… someone important named you Evain," Alex said in barely a whisper. Evain frowned even more. People often winced at her name of Amerald, or nearly cried with a smile at her name of Evain. She never could figure out why. No one had the heart to tell her that she was named from someone that was very important.

"Anyways, Princess, don't you have to head back home before this evening?" Shade said with a mock bow to cover up the growing tense mood. Evain huffed, but let it slide in favor of smiling in excitement. She smiled at Shade who only smiled back at her. The two boys had always been with her and took their chance to visit her, though she never knew why. She was years younger than them!

"Tonight I will no longer be eight, but nine!" Evain declared quite happily. Shade, for a split second, saw a boy of eight in her place, looking quite similar. He shook his head and grinned at her. Evain bid goodbye and took off towards the house of the king and queen. Alex watched as he pulled his knees up and leaned against the tree.

"I miss him a lot. That kid," Alex sighed. It was like an unwritten law to not say his name.

"So do I… But we can't let her know… Besides… My mother said it was bound to happen when we were younger. Elves had that choice and he did too… His papa and Ada were there and he was a wizard." Shade said with a sad smile.

"Why did he have to be an Istari?" Alex groaned.

"He wouldn't be himself if he hadn't…" Shade pointed out. The two looked at each other in silence before deciding it wiser to move away from the conversation.

Back at the castle a man was making his way towards the house of Aragorn and Arwen. He was dark-haired and grey-eyed with a noble face upon him. The ruler of Ithilien and Steward to the King, Faramir walked up the steps and entered the entrance hall. Upon entering, he was greeted by Aragorn or also known as King Elessar. In Aragorn's arms was his youngest son, Eldarion who was of only two summers now. The baby's hair was a tuft of brownish gold with his bright brown eyes blinking up at Faramir who smiled gently at the child.

"Faramir!" Aragorn said in surprise, but he welcomed his old friend from the War of the Ring. Faramir gave him a tired smile. He had been a visitor of briefly passing, coming here annually. Faramir began to tread down the halls as Aragorn followed. The two walked side by side as they passed others in the halls.

"Is his room still there?" Faramir asked. Aragorn nodded and the two soon found themselves in the sorrowful room of a boy. An ancient dog was nowhere to be seen, for he had passed away before Princess Evain turned three summers… Aragorn had saw fit to buy her a kitten instead. The room was very much as if he was still there… still at the small age of nine. The dark green bed remained there with the vanilla-creamed teddy bear and the ragged blanket was left on the edge, folded neatly as opposed to messy.

"It pains me to know he is no longer here, but I know he is happy even if I cannot understand." Aragorn said softly and Faramir nodded in agreement. For how could mortals understand the wonders of magic? The wonders of immortality.

The two were quite silent for a moment before they heard the young princess running down the hall. She was laughing as she ran through the halls while her mother gracefully walked behind the child with her daughter on her hip. She set her youngest daughter on the ground of who gifted her with a bright smile. Aragorn smiled at his daughter, reminded of a little boy who would always do the same thing. Only he'd come home covered in dirt and always trying to hide it. Arwen noticed his sad smile and comforted him by grasping her gentle hands into his own. Aragorn squeezed her hand and Arwen smiled back as she held Eldarion in her arms with a gentle ease. Evain was oblivious to her parents' sorrow.

"Faramir!" Evain said happily. Arwen she smiled at the two. Her daughter, Evelyn (being the second eldest of the three children) was of five years as she raced over to her sister happily. Evain was picked up and hugged in greeting before carried away from the room. Evain had never had the chance to peek inside in her life. She was always curious to know what lay inside. What caused visitors to converse somberly…

That night Aragorn stood off to the side with the love of his life as the two watched their eldest daughter laugh and converse with her friends. Alex and Shade had come, at the respect of the King and Queen's wishes. Evain wore a flowing blue gown with patches of spark. Her curly brown hair was brought forth to her shoulder in ringlets and upon her head was a crown of different sorts. While Amerald secretly preferred the crown that was encased in a solid case at the throne's left, she knew better than to ask. Her parents always stared at the case with some sort of wistful thinking. Instead she turned to her little sister and smile at Evelyn's playful nature as her baby brother crawled on his knees and hands in his ivy green outfit. She was content with her siblings.

"Evain has grown quite beautifully and Eldarion is becoming old enough… Soon Evelyn will be at that age," Arwen spoke softly to her husband as she cradled her son in her arms. Aragorn turned to her with a smile tucked onto his lips. He brushed his lips against hers and the two shared a brief kiss. Though however short it was, it still held the lingering meaning of the message. He agreed, though he was thinking of another.

"Do you think he would have approved of us not telling her?" Aragorn asked with a scorned look on his handsome face. Arwen laughed lightly and kissed her husband again, greatly reminded of the day she had made the choice to stay. Because she loved this man.

"We should tell her tonight. Young Shade informed me that she has grown exceedingly irritated by the unknown information." She explained. Aragorn nodded and the two stood there as Evain turned her head to smile at them. Long after the sun had passed for the day, the two were in Evain's room tucking the young girl into her large bed. Evelyn was asleep in the room next door while Eldarion was asleep in the nursery hall. Amerald's room was similar to their eldest son's room, only different at the same time. The room had been painted violet with a crisp of deep blue. In Evain's tired arms was a dog plushy. She had dubbed the dog to be Sirius after the deceased animal when she was three.

"Amerald…" Arwen began, "Sweetie, there is something we haven't told you before."

"Are you having another new baby?" She asked warily and childishly. Arwen laughed and ran her hand slowly through her daughter's hair. Amerald leaned into the touch, always inwardly drinking in the feeling.

"Of course not. Why would you think that?" Aragorn said in surprise. He looked at his small nine-year-old daughter and felt slightly guilty for not always doing the things he did with Archir with his child.

"I looked in the room I wasn't supposed to…" Amerald admitted guiltily. Aragorn bit his lip to keep from saying anything. He looked at his wife for a second who caught the message and continued on.

"Well you see. Before you were born, someone had given you the name Evain. That person was very special to your father." Arwen began before adding, "And to me."

"Who?" Amerald asked. Aragorn took a breath.

"That person was a little boy of three when I met him. He became my son later on." Aragorn started. Amerald went quiet, listening intently.

"He was loved truly by everyone around with the exception of some who saw him as too wise and too powerful. You see… He was the little boy I told you in stories before."

"The child Istari!?" Amerald asked incredulously. The parents nodded.

"Archir the Emerald was my son and like I told you long ago, he had to make a decision before you were born. He had to either stay here and lose his magic for a few years or go to the Undying Lands with the elves like his mentor." Aragorn said softly.

"He chose to go to Valinor." Arwen added in, recalling that day…

"_Wait!" A voice echoed around them before the young boy of nine came bursting from the trees and right in front of the awaiting group at the docks. He was wearing his emerald green robes that dubbed him a wizard… but he also wore the crown crafted at the hands of Arda for him. In his hands was his staff and he panted slightly from the run. He was of powerful importance and his black hair was pulled back with an emerald clasp that a young girl of five had made for him, shyly handing it to him before smiling brightly. Once he was calmer, he looked into the eyes of his friends and family. In front of him was Shade and Alex who had been brought here because of how much their friendship with this boy. The elves were there too, his Ada and grandparents beside Aragorn and Arwen. Pallando and Gandalf stood off to the docking edge. Pallando walked over to him. Archir's eyes sparked with tears and they stung his eyes as they streamed down his heated cheeks softly in reminiscent of a river. They were powerful in significance, but very elegant tears. _

"_Have you made your decision Archir the Emerald, son of Legolas and Aragorn? Will you stay or will you go?" Pallando asked wisely, his own sapphire staff held in his graceful hands. Archir nodded carefully with his eyes struck onto the eyes of the glinting blue eyes of the Blue Wizard. Archir seemed to be struggling with something in his mind reminded of blue from a darker Istari. He took a breath again before he nodded to him. _

"_I have made my decision…" Archir spoke with small pauses, straightening himself. He looked much like the young prince he was modeled as. No longer molded to be someone he wasn't. He was the prince now. The prince of Arda. He no longer was controlled to be a pawn or forced to be the hero. He had chosen willingly and he now cleared his throat before gazing at his father with a sad smile before looking at Arwen and then Gandalf and Frodo. _

"_I have thought long and difficultly about my decision, but this matters no longer for I have found my answer. Though it will be hard, I choose to go to Valinor, the Undying lands. I choose to be immortal and spend my eternity as that once younger child of three summers, growing older in wisdom. I feel that this is a wiser decision than I could have ever made before. I will miss Arda though… So I ask that I be allowed to return to Arda when it once again is in its time of need." He spoke with a direct approaching voice. Pallando was quiet for a moment before he smiled at the young lad._

"_That is a wise decision and I am sure you will be allowed my dear friend." Pallando said. Archir nodded and the elves boarded the boat with Pallando before Frodo and Bilbo stepped on. This left his friends who would be remained behind. _

"_Archir…" Alex said in disbelief._

"_I'm sorry Alex… I really am." Archir said softly. Alex's eyes began to grow moist. Even a lad would cry, and he was no exception to this. Archir drew his friend in an embrace tightly. Ever since the two had met, they had been together through thick and thin as friends. Alex had helped Archir discover he was no different than any other boy._

"_I'm going to miss you Archir…" Shade spoke. Archir smiled sadly at his friend who was always trying to be indifferent. He nodded to him and the three boys clapped their own hands together._

"_Promise me… Promise me you'll always be there for the sister I won't be able to see. The sister I wish I could be there for. Please be the brother for her that I cannot be." Archir said. The other two nodded and Archir smiled before he turned to his solemn father and mother._

"_I understand why you chose to go. I will miss you my son." Aragorn said quietly. He knelt down and Archir let his own tears continue flowing as he threw his arms around his father. Aragorn rubbed circles into the boys back once more. _

"_I love you daddy." Archir whispered before he kissed his mother on the cheek and waved at his family one last time before Gandalf took him by the hand and he boarded the boat with a small weak smile. As he did, the people around could see a light forming around the boy before he was gone and the boat took him away. Words of the young child floated back to their ears._

"_Never forget me…" _

Aragorn never forgot that…

Of course, decisions were something that affected both sides of both places. That day had been one of tears and of satisfying peace. Though the people of Arda would be heartbroken as if the boy were dead, they knew he would return one day and he was truly at peace where he now was.

Amerald, or also known as Evain, would never again grow annoyed when Shade or Alex grew quiet in sadness. She would now understand why; for like many children in the wizard world, she had been told a story of a little boy hero, a little wizard child.

Though, Arda wasn't the only place in need of telling. Legolas had gone to the Undying Lands sometime two years after Archir had. Thus the last of the immortal elves had left, with Arwen remaining with her husband. The line of the elves would no longer be there. She, like Archir, had been given the choice of a lifetime; mortality with the love of her life, or Immortality with her family. She had of course chosen to be mortal with her husband, and she only gave a twinge in regret when Archir had gone, but she remained behind in her decision.

In the Undying Lands, things were much different than Arda. For one thing, there were no men there. The lands were filled with elves, now with three hobbits, one dwarf, and the remaining light wizards. The lands were green and plucked with fresh grass and ever-growing trees of many types. The sky was a blend of hazel blue with white steaming from the unshapely clouds. Houses were built around in a community of sorts, while some had taken up claim of the diamond-infested caves. The climate had taken on a warm drift. It grew cold and snowy only occasionally.

"She is growing now," A wizened old wizard spoke through his smoke pipe. He sat beside his companion as the three relaxed on the woodened docks of the home they resided in. The other was a wizard cloaked in brown, while the third was a wizard in blue. The three were silent again, smoking puffs of shapes unheard of. Radagast was a tame wizard with an honest face. He was an animal tamer back in Middle Earth, and was quite different than described by Sauron. He relaxed against the tree behind him as the said tree moved to his command. The gentle breeze of the wind blew against the three.

Pallando puffed on his pipe before looking over at Gandalf the Grey with a relaxed look upon his young features. His blue robes fluttered about him in a lazy manner. He had an air of peace and calamity about him as he drifted his free hand into the water that rested beside the three elderly wizards. The water bowed to his dominance and swiftly moved about him.

"That she is… The king is quite reminded of our dear Archir from his three children." Pallando observed Gandalf closely. It had pained the older wizard how Aragorn had gone through grief for not seeing Archir anymore and not until they were in great peril.

"He will move on by being a father to Evelyn, Evain, and Eldarion… Speaking of which, time is coming in teaching Archir his elemental," Radagast said wisely. Each wizard had a strength and weakness to their powers. Archir would be no exception to this rule. Radagast had taken on the elements of nature and ground, while Pallando had taken on water. Gandalf had of course preferred the fire elementals. Saruman had been lightning and shadow while Sauron had been in an unusual elemental of creation. Gandalf could estimate that his student would take on the elements of air. The sound of hurried feet padding against the floor of the house was heard and the three turned their heads to spy a small little boy running out from the house and landing squarely on the ground. He spotted them and ran over to them with a bewildered smile.

"Hey Papa, Pallando, Radagast." Archir greeted as he dusted off his own emerald green robes that adorned his small three-year-old sized body. Mentally in his thirties, he was still a child at heart and in body. As he was soon within Gandalf's reach, the old wizard pulled the younger one into his arms and settled him on his lap, wrapping his arms around the small boy. Archir leaned into the touch of his mentor.

"My family back in Arda misses me, don't they?" Archir inquired as he spotted the crystallized mirror in front of Pallando. They had been watching Arda again… Gandalf nodded and Archir sighed. He had never looked into the mirror except for twice in the beginning. He preferred not to see the effects of his choice happening over there.

"They are living. Your siblings are growing," Pallando piped up. Archir smiled a little as he closed his emerald eyes to let the wind blow against his eyelids. He was quiet for awhile, simply soaking in the incredibly gentle nature of Valinor. Archir had been homesick and missing Aragorn during his first year here. He had cried constantly for his father, mainly because Legolas was also in Arda still at the time. It had taken two years before Legolas joined them and he was less compelled to be homesick, though he did miss Aragorn still. He was heartbroken when Aragorn would miss him, and he was saddened when Evain was born and his parents named her after the name he had given to her. The name Amerald had surprised him. Eldarion had been given the name Alexander from Archir's friend and Evelyn had been given Ashley. Archir mused that those two names were known to be common in his old world, in the future. He sighed.

"Papa… do you think I made the right decision?" Archir asked for what seemed to be the ongoing umpteenth time. Gandalf chuckled at the reused question and nodded, kissing his student on the head with a soft touch. The four wizards were quiet for a moment until they heard the sounds of Archir's name being called before they found Legolas sliding open the door from the house and spotting his son. Legolas groaned and walked over to the group. He looked at his son with stern eyes. The elf looked rather intimidating which caused Archir to pout at him.

"Archir…" Legolas began warningly, "You do know you aren't to miss meals."

"But, Ada!" Archir moaned to his elven father, "Erestor already stuffed me like a turkey during breakfast. Why must you demand I eat more! Do you WANT me to explode of wizarding stuff?" Legolas chuckled.

"You will not explode pen-nin tithen," Legolas laughed, "now off to dine with you before you take a bath." Archir huffed and proceeded to make a small figurine with his finger that made a smoke emit. He then pretended to explode, making childish noises as he did so, imitating his belly blowing up. Legolas shook his head and easily lifted his son up into his arms. Archir pouted again and leaned against Legolas, his arm around Legolas' neck and his free thumb stuck into his mouth. He took on the toddlerish persona that he used to so easily, that many of them tended to forget he was mentally an adult.

As he was carried away to the house, Pallando chuckled through his wooden pipe. He found Archir to be amusing in his antics of preferring to be a child than an adult, though he listened to the three wizards when they taught him about the history of the world. In Valinor, Archir was able to peak into the mirror to also see his old world, and on a certain number of times had managed to see his birth parents and the marauders. Of course, that was during the first year only.

"I'm full Ada!" Archir complained. Legolas chuckled and grabbed a cloth to wipe the boy's mouth. Archir protested, but ended up allowing his Ada to do so. Once finished, Legolas lifted the child up and into his arms before he carried him again towards the baths. Glorfindel spotted the two and walked over to them. Archir gave Glorfindel a look as if to say 'save me' and the elf chuckled before he swiftly stole the child from his Ada's arms. Legolas shot him a betrayed look which was ignored.

"Glorfindel!" Legolas said, exasperated, "It was hard enough to get him to eat. I'm trying to get him cleaned before he goes off to mess with that beastly dwarf I call a friend." Legolas didn't forget easily the numerous bruises and scratches the child was covered with constantly because Gimli found fun in wrestling against the youngster.

"Come now Legolas," Glorfindel chuckled, "Gimli is a rather amusing dwarf who finds teaching you ion the wonders of making and combat."

"Archir is three again; he has no need for such things." Legolas huffed and he ran a hand through his flowing locks, his tunic over his shoulders easily and comfortably. Archir's cheeks puffed at being ignored by his Ada and friend.

"HE is right here," Archir quipped and Legolas shot his son a mock glare before sighing and shaking his head in amusement as he poked a finger into Archir's side and this emitted a loud yelp of surprise from the supposed toddler before Archir whined for Legolas to stop, which he did.

"You were perfectly capable of this in the body of a nine-year-old, but I say no to this when you're a little one yet again. You've known this." Legolas told his son. Archir stuck his tongue out at him and Legolas' lips quirked upwards at the childish action. Archir was very much his own person. He was very mature as the adult in his mind, but he tended to lean towards being the child he never got to be. When he was three in Middle Earth the first time, they were in war. Now he was able to stay a child for as long as he pleased and Archir took advantage of that fact. Legolas sighed as Archir squirmed in Glorfindel's arms as he was carried to the bath.

"I will help you," Glorfindel said with a lopsided grin. Legolas smiled back and the two reached the bath in no time. Archir was pouting and remained still as Glorfindel unbuttoned his robes and slid them off his person before slipping him into the tub. Legolas had the bath drawn up for the little boy and was now shampooing the child with practiced ease. Nine years of doing so helped. Archir leaned against the side, resting his small arms on the tub criss-crossed with his head laying on them, using them like a pillow. Glorfindel grabbed a cloth and rubbed the boy's back gently.

"'Member when I got sick?" Archir asked with a small smile. Legolas and Glorfindel nodded with amused looks. Archir had turned every bit a toddler when he had grown ill surprisingly in Valinor a few years ago. He had fussed and grown feverish that it took nearly a month to get him up to par. He had had been carried around and bed-ridden the whole time and Archir had grown more at ease with living here after that. The mirror had been beside Archir's bedside the whole time as he would gaze into it.

"You were certainly quite a handful," Glorfindel remarked and he frowned as he found a small bruise on the boy's back. Another thing they discovered was Archir incredible ability to get bruised very easily, but he did not feel it and it hurt little. Archir was immortal and powerful, but a child nonetheless. He was still the youngest in Valinor by far, even mentally being.

"How is Frodo?" Archir asked curiously, for he had not seen the hobbit around today. Bilbo Baggins had passed away and Sam had come to join him in the Undying Lands just last year. Archir had played with Frodo often and when Bilbo had been gone, Frodo looked somewhat lost and saddened. Archir frowned lightly as he recalled and blinked when water draped over him like a blanket before he felt wet and cold. He pouted at his Ada who grinned and drained the tub before lifting him out with an overly large towel. He bundled Archir in it and cuddled his son as he easily dried his hair with a part of it… One of the things he enjoyed most was Archir's size, which enabled him to continue to take care of him easily.

"Frodo and Sam are getting older, but they have another decade before they face departure from this world. They are not immortal, though the ring bounded them to remain younger just a little bit longer." Legolas said to his son as he finished drying him and carried him to the bedroom, wrapped up in the towel as Glorfindel followed. As they walked, Archir spotted Erestor tending to his own herb garden he so proudly worked on for the five years he had been here. Haldir was off flirting with the elf-lady that he so crushed on. Galadriel was busy meditating out in the gardens with Celeborn. Elrond and Thranduil seemed to be battling it out yet again. Elrohir and Elladan were fleeing the scene from a very ruffled Gil-Galad. They all looked so young, despite living hundreds of years… Archir leaned his head against his father's shoulders as he was carried inside to his bedroom. The room was rather simple and small, but homey and perfect for Archir. There was a crafted hammock strung from one corner to the middle of the adjacent wall and stuffed animals were on it. The bed below was just right for Archir's small size and a jaded blanket rested on top of it. Legolas searched through the closet of clothes and pulled out a pair of trousers, undergarment, and a shirt for the little boy as Glorfindel busied himself with tidying up the room just a little.

"I'm like Papa right? I won't ever grow old and I could possibly live forever?" Archir asked with a grimace at the thought. Legolas nodded and slid the boy's shirt over his head and through his arms, buttoning the side neck up only a little before he dressed the boy in the trousers. Legolas looked around for his shoes and socks and finally found them. Archir gave the incredulous parent an innocent look as his shoes were located. One had been hanging by the tongue over the top edge of his door…

Dressed to do what he pleased now, Archir slid off his bed and grabbed Glorfindel's hand with a smile on his face. Legolas ruffled his son's hair fondly before Archir dragged the once warrior-elf out the door. All of the elves cared deeply about the small wizard child. Archir led the elf out of the house and he let go as he spotted his familiar.

"Hedwig!" Archir shouted happily and Hedwig the Phoenix glided over toward her master with an easy grace. Once a babe, she now sparked with an icy snow of power. Her feathers were ruffed beautifully as she nicked her master on the ear affectionately. Years ago, Archir had discovered that the phoenix was truly his former Hedwig. The discovery had astonished Archir beyond levels and he truly knew Hedwig was his familiar for sure.

"Archir!!!" Elladan screamed and Archir turned his head right in time to be swept up into his uncle's arms and be carried away from a bewildered Glorfindel. Archir wriggled in his arms as he was nearly crushed to the elf's chest.

"What's wrong Uncle Elladan?" Archir choked out before he saw. He nearly fell over laughing at the enraged elf behind them. Erestor was going to bury Elladan alive and now Archir had been dragged along into trouble just for being involved!

"You're so mean Uncle!" Archir whined and Elladan took a sharp turn which effectively lost Erestor. Elladan sighed in relief and sat the child on his lap as he slid down to sit on the ground. Archir sat facing him, his small legs barely reaching the elf's chest while Archir sat with his back to Elladan's feet. Elladan's lips twitched at the adorable look his nephew sported.

"What did you DO to `Restor?" Archir asked curiously as his uncle moved him to rest his head against the broad chest. Archir leaned on his shoulder before he yawned and the sound of footsteps alerted them. It was Elrohir who was grinning widely at his brother and nephew.

"Erestor is after you for sure now that you have Archir with you. He already caught me." Elrohir said with a grimace at the reminder of the enraged elf's wrath.

"Don't remind me," Elladan grumbled as he passed Archir to Elrohir and stood up. Elrohir adjusted Archir to sit on his hip and the boy slid his thumb into his mouth. The antic was so cute that Elrohir grinned again, always amused from Archir's childish nature. Archir caught the look and chose to ignore it. He knew he was acting like a toddler a lot, but he naturally couldn't resist. He drew comfort from sucking his thumb or being carried. He hated being hand fed by someone when he refused to cooperate with eating something though. How much more could they force down his throat!? Archir watched over Elrohir's shoulder as he was carried to the garden where Elrond was, Elladan and Elrohir's father and Archir's grandfather.

"Granddad, good afternoon!" Archir chirped as his uncle placed him on the smooth grass in front of the elderly lord. Elrond chuckled fondly and drew his grandson close to him. Archir smiled at Elrond whose handsome features were aligned with age. He was a quiet elf of peace now. Archir found that his granddad could often be found in the garden. His grandfather preferred meditation as of late.

"Good afternoon pen-nin tithen! How have you been this fair day?" Elrond chuckled as he leaned against the tree. Archir crawled on all fours over to him and Elrond opened his arms to pull Archir in between his legs to lean against him. He stroked a gentle firm hand through the black locks with ease.

"What is wrong child?" Elrond inquired as he hummed the lullaby created years ago for Archir by Aragorn and Legolas. The tune was now hummed quite often around the toddler-sized wizard. Archir's lips quirked upwards slightly before he sighed deeply, just enjoying the nature of things around them. He loved Valinor more than any home he had ever discovered; but, he missed his father Aragorn and his mother Arwen. He was no longer mortal and he would live on until war came to Arda once more. The Vala had explained to him nine years ago that on the day that war once more returned to Middle Earth, the wizards would have to return only for the elderly ones, in a new form. Gandalf would be younger than he was, with his mindset still there. Things would change, they explained. Archir didn't know if that war would come when Aragorn and Arwen lived or when his little brother Eldarion took over the throne.

"I feel homesick again, just a little bit." Archir said in a small voice to his granddad. Elrond looked at Archir with a sad smile. He knew how much Archir meant to his daughter and son-in-law and how much they meant to Archir. The child loved it here in Valinor, but he would always feel just a bit homesick every now and then. Elrond kissed Archir's cheek.

"Just a little bit huh?" Elrond hummed, "Well… how about you talk about it."

"`Member when I told you about being from another world, Granddad?" Archir inquired and when he nodded, Archir continued, "I feel the same about that. Hermione and Ron must have kids by now. I wonder if they married too. Or if Draco actually had a kid. It's hard to imagine those guys as parents." Elrond smiled. When Archir had told him of his life as a teenage wizard in another world, Elrond had listened intently and so had Legolas as the two worked to help Archir see his own future. He was very much at peace with them, but he seemed to never have thought for himself about his own life.

"I see," Elrond said after awhile. He continued to stroke the boy's long hair, further soothing his grandson. Archir and Elrond were quiet for a few minutes before he spoke again, moving Archir to look him in the eye.

"It's natural to be homesick child. You wouldn't be Archir if you didn't miss your friends and family. Just continue to know they are making their futures out there like you are." Elrond said with a smile upon his eye crinkled face, "Now, I believe your Papa needed to speak with you about something. Just make sure to come back for dinner, mmkay? Wouldn't want your Ada to have to come dragging you back now would you?" Elrond chuckled as Archir pouted and nodded, sliding off his lap and running off to find Gandalf. Elrond watched him for a few minutes before shaking his head with a smile and looking over at Erestor and Haldir who were walking over to him. Elrond stood up and the three shared a smile as they watched as Archir met up with his mentor from a distance.

"He sure has changed from the mistrusting little one I met in Rivendell all those years back," Erestor said with a smile lit upon his face. Elrond laughed and nodded in agreement as he saw Gandalf lift Archir into his arms and toss him around. Archir was clearly enjoying himself. Haldir chuckled softly at the child's shouts of laughter reaching the sensitive ears of the three elderly elves.

"That war in which he will help lead to fight in… We must make sure he is ready for it." Elrond sighed. Erestor nodded. A war was coming to interrupt the eternal peace. None knew what, for they knew an ominous power was lying ahead of them and they could not stop it from coming. Their best bet was leading Archir into a new power of leadership. Two wars he had been in, but none such as this upcoming one, that Elrond knew. This one would conflict with his own emotions, as Galadriel had seen in her visions.

Elrond shook his head and looked over at Haldir who was watching Archir with curious and amused sparked eyed. The three elves were rather overprotective of the youngest member of their own family, even mentally wise in Valinor.

"Papa, Granddad said you needed me," Archir called as he ran over to his mentor who smiled and lazily scooped him up, tossed him in the air, and held him in his arms for a moment or two. Archir was confused but paused as he felt something. The wind blew in his face making Archir's eyes sting and he closed his eyes before he felt nothing again. He looked at his mentor confusedly. Gandalf simply smiled knowingly and twirled the boy around.

"Littlun, do you recall that night I educated you about my own elemental? When Pallando and Radagast told you theirs?" Gandalf inquired and when he nodded, Gandalf grinned again, "Well… I noticed just last night something strange… Very unusual. I did not expect this to happen to you."

"I swear I ate and did NOT pour soup on Erestor!" Archir immediately said and blushed when Gandalf chuckled in great amusement before shaking his age old head.

"No, you did nothing bad Littlun. Though, you must tell me why you poured soup on him at another time. You are an Istari of the emerald rank, and you were discovered to hold every power that I do plus some, in your own way. Your element showed last night in you, and Pallando saw it." Gandalf said as he set Archir on the ground and sat there in front of him. Archir looked at him for a split second, his eyes filled with doubt.

"What element is it then?" Archir asked warily as he moved to sit in his mentor's lap. He rather enjoyed it when Gandalf wrapped his arms around him in return. It was a comforting jester to Archir as he smiled at his mentor and friend. Gandalf smiled back.

"You are the elemental of air. In other words… flight and wind." Gandalf chuckled and Archir stared at him blankly before it clicked. Woah… Then that meant…

"Yes, with a few years of training, you should be able to push your own body to soar through the air." Gandalf said with a familiar twinkle in his eyes as his young student jumped up with a loud whoop that drew the attention of Haldir, Elrond, and Erestor who walked over to them.

"Granddad! Haldir! Erestor! Did you hear that? Papa says I'll be able to fly!" Archir chirped in excitement as he ran over to them and Haldir lifted him up into his arms. He grinned happily as Haldir kissed his cheek and ruffled his hair, laughing in the process.

"You will now? That sounds like a splendid new ability. Now, how about you help me with dinner tonight since you so eloquently attempted to skip lunch!" Erestor said with a mischievous smile and Archir frowned with a groan before nodded at the idea of helping Erestor cook. Erestor took Archir into his arms from Haldir and carried him off towards the kitchens with Haldir following him. Elrond was soon left alone with Gandalf. Elrond looked over at the white wizard who so valiantly fought in the war, had done his duty no matter what, and had taken on a student who became his grandson. Elrond had known Gandalf for ages, and this made him somewhat a mentor to Elrond as well.

"Hello old friend," Elrond said with a twitch of his lips as Gandalf shed his outer robe and hat as they entered the house. He placed it on the rack and settled himself in the rocking chair Archir had managed to craft with his magic for his papa. He had made it since 'his papa always had a sore back when he sat for a long time' as Archir put it. Elrond took his seat on the seat beside it. They could easily hear Erestor and Haldir laughing at what could only be Archir's crazy antics yet again.

"I'm worried…" Elrond began, "I'm worried that the next age of war will come and we will have not had enough to train Archir. He is but a child even mentally. The Vala –"

"-Have asked Radagast the brown, Pallando the blue, and I Gandalf the white to teach Archir about the customs of a wizard and educate him up to par with battlement. The journey will be long and we have unknown years to do so. I can only hope the next war takes place not when Archir's body is so young. Every 20 years his body will grow. In just 11 years he will finally be four in body and mentally in his forties. By then his training would be more expanded." Gandalf said calmly and Elrond sighed in what little relief could be produced from the thought of his grandson –who had already faced countless events that would traumatize him always- having to go through something even more dangerous than his part in the previous war, and his role in his first war. For now, they would teach Archir everything he needed. From being a child to growing up and learning the sort of things he lacked.

A crash alerted the two and they entered the kitchen to find Archir covered from head to toe in what must have been the pudding that Erestor told Elrond he was making tonight. Elrond shook his head and Legolas chose this moment to enter. He chuckled and picked up his dirtied son, ignoring the mess on his once clean shirt as he carried his wriggling child to the baths where Elrond followed. On the way, Legolas stopped to converse with Thranduil who had chuckled at Elrond and his grandson.

Once making it two the baths, Elrond watched as Legolas expertly removed Archir's clothing and settled him in to the bath. The boy of course protested and wriggled about as Elrond handed Legolas the cloth to clean himself while he took over the pudding job. As Legolas thanked him and left, Elrond took a cloth and poured shampoo into it. Archir sat in the tub quietly and curiously as he stared at his grandfather. Elrond had never been the one to bath him before. Elrond simply smiled at him with a gentle smile and knelt down, bringing the cloth to Archir chest, he scrubbed. There was a first time for everything after all.

Just like there was a first time for family, or a third time for chances. Well… there were unlimited times for a new chance. Or a new life… What some people never thought about was the possibility to start over. Sure there were times in which someone felt that they made a horrible mistake that couldn't be fixed, but somewhere someway it could be. Even if there were numerous horrible events that took place to you, why not keep going? It built the person that they became today after all. As Harry became Archir, he learned this lesson. He learned that he would always have a family to love him no matter where he was, or what took place. That was all he wanted… all he needed.

He had been given another chance at being child, and he had finally taken it in. The Ring Child was at peace.

**Author's Note: So the decision had been one hell of a hard one for myself to make. I definitely was able to take on Archir's thoughts through that and your reviews helped me in the deciding factor, although I feel that I cannot make an Alternate Ending. The chances of a sequel are very low because I'm unsure if it will ruin the original plot I had going. There's not a whole lot I could do. This was the final chapter of Ring Child, so Review to tell me how you felt about it. Tell me how you thought throughout the story so I can get some feedback on future stories similar to this. My other stories will be worked on before I consider a sequel though. Thanks to my reviewers and I'm sorry for some I gave a hard time when they gave me some awesome critique. This is the first story I ever managed to complete that was THIS LONG or this successful. I'm glad to know I was able to keep it up. For those who are curious about Aragorn's children; He had two unnamed daughters and a son named Eldarion so I felt they needed to be tribute in this. Aragorn died in the end of his own reign and Eldarion became king afterwards. At least, that's what I heard. Could be wrong. Valinor's lifestyle was made up by me for the most part with a little help from researches. I hope you sincerely enjoyed this chapter. I decided to work on it early, was so excited to have it done.**

**Fin.  
**


	27. The End Notice

**Ring Child Notice:**

**I know this is an Author's Note, but in a way it's the next part? Who knows. **

**So the story has ended, but I've had an entire summer or year really to have second thoughts. I did want to write a sequel but after thinking about it, I needed to modify a lot of parts to be able to do so. So with the help of a great writer herself, I created an Emerald Istar. Chapter One is already up and the next few chapters will be up shortly later. After chapter five though, it'll be a bit longer seeing as how I have a beta now. She already edited the first five for me and I'm getting the others to her later on.**

**I'd like to thank all of you for subscribing and reviewing this story and hopefully I meet a better standard in the newest version of Ring Child. It'll include the journey from Shire to Bree so that should help you all tremendously with a little more character development. I've also toned down Archir/Harry being so dramatic and babyish. **

**From, **

**Kiamii**

**If you have any suggestions for improvement in this story, PM me or review to this. **

_**Ring Child » reviews**_

_**Harry never expected to wake up from the final battle to wind up in the Shire as a 3-year-old ISTARI! But then again... The unexpected always happened to him. Features the entire LOTR story with twists. Follow a magical journey of second chances...**_

_**Crossover - Harry Potter & Lord of the Rings - Rated: K+ - English - Adventure/Family - Chapters: 26 - Words: 101,130 - Reviews: 697 - Updated: 2-9-10 - Published: 10-6-09 - Harry P. - Complete**_


	28. The Rewrite Notice

Who cares if I'm not supposed to do this, this is still important about the story.

I originally removed Ring Child (and it's counterpart one-shot with the rewrite) due to very cruel remarks that targeted my person and not really for the content. I realize the story does not satisfy any real plot that deviates from the LOTR story line. I was younger and inexperienced with the stories of Tolkien and concentrated more heavily on my own creation. That is exactly what is a fan-fiction is, however.

The story will be rewritten and added to fan fiction within either the end of this year or around February. Keep track of the progress on my LiveJournal or Tumblr. I have the links on my profile. The rewrite does feature some elements of Ring Child, but will still be remarkably different to still be called its own story line. To help sway you, the first chapter alone stands over 10,000 words and Harry hasn't even left the Shire in that chapter.

The only reason I returned Ring Child is that my inbox was blown up by requests to either email them a copy of the story, or to put the story back up. So therefore, this is for the actual reviewers and not the haters. Haters, don't read if you don't like. If you truly want to help me, email me actual critique instead of hateful bash. I don't turn off my anonymous reviews because there are some unnamed reviewers I love to hear from.

At any rate, happy readings once again and look forward to hearing updates from my social media pages.

**Kiamii**

Crossover - Harry Potter & Lord of the Rings - Rated: K+ - English - Adventure/Family - Chapters: 27 - Words: 65,535 - Reviews: 784 - Updated: 10/28/2010 - Published: 10/6/2009 - Harry P. - Complete


End file.
